Martial: EPIGRAMMATON LIBRI

Sextus mittitur hic tibi libellus,
in primis mihi care Martialis:
quem si terseris aure diligenti,
audebit minus anxius tremensque
magnas Caesaris in manus uenire. 5

The sixth little book is sent to you here,
above all, my dear Martial:
which, if you polish it with a diligent ear,
will dare, less anxious and trembling,
to come into the great hands of Caesar. 5

Lusus erat sacrae conubia taedae,
     lusus et immeritos exsecuisse mares.
Vltraque tu prohibes, Caesar, populisque futuris
     succurris, nasci quos sine fraude iubes.
Nec spado iam nec moechus erit te praeside quisquam:              5
     at prius—o mores—et spado moechus erat.

It used to be a jest to trifle with the connubial bonds of the sacred wedding torch,
     a jest, too, to excise undeserving males.
You forbid both, Caesar, and you succor future peoples,
     whom you bid to be born without fraud.
Now neither eunuch nor adulterer will anyone be with you presiding:              5
     but before—O morals—even a eunuch was an adulterer.

Nascere Dardanio promissum nomen Iulo
     uera deum suboles; nascere, magne puer,
cui pater aeternas post saecula tradat habenas,
     quique regas orbem cum seniore senex.
Ipsa tibi niueo trahet aurea pollice fila              5
     et totam Phrixi Iulia nebit ouem.

Be born, the name promised to Dardanian Iulus,
     true offspring of the gods; be born, great boy,
to whom the father, after ages, may hand over the eternal reins,
     and who, an old man, will rule the orb with the elder.
She herself will draw for you golden threads with a snow-white thumb,              5
     and Julia will spin the whole ram of Phrixus.

Censor maxime principumque princeps,
cum tot iam tibi debeat triumphos,
tot nascentia templa, tot renata,
tot spectacula, tot deos, tot urbes,
plus debet tibi Roma quod pudica est. 5

Censor most great and prince of princes,
since already so many triumphs are owed to you,
so many temples being born, so many reborn,
so many spectacles, so many gods, so many cities,
Rome owes you more because she is chaste. 5

Rustica mercatus multis sum praedia nummis;
mutua des centum, Caeciliane, rogo.
Nil mihi respondes? Tacitum te dicere credo
"Non reddes": ideo, Caeciliane, rogo.

I have bought rustic estates for many coins;
lend me a hundred on loan, Caecilianus, I ask.
You answer nothing to me? I believe you, silent, to be saying
"You will not repay": for that reason, Caecilianus, I ask.

Comoedi tres sunt, sed amat tua Paula, Luperce,
quattuor: et cwfovn Paula provswpon amat.

There are three comedians, but your Paula, Lupercus,
loves four: and Paula loves a mute mask.

Iulia lex populis ex quo, Faustine, renata est
     atque intrare domos iussa Pudicitia est,
aut minus aut certe non plus tricesima lux est,
     et nubit decimo iam Telesilla uiro.
Quae nubit totiens, non nubit: adultera lege est.              5
     Offendor moecha simpliciore minus.

Since the Julian Law was reborn among the peoples, Faustine,
     and Pudicity was ordered to enter homes,
either less, or at any rate not more than the thirtieth day it is,
     and Telesilla is already marrying her tenth man.
She who marries so often does not marry: by law she is an adulteress.              5
     I am less offended by a more straightforward adulteress.

Praetores duo, quattuor tribuni,
septem causidici, decem poetae
cuiusdam modo nuptias petebant
a quodam sene. Non moratus ille
praeconi dedit Eulogo puellam. 5
Dic, numquid fatue, Seuere, fecit?

Two praetors, four tribunes,
seven advocates, ten poets
were just now seeking the nuptials of a certain girl
from a certain old man. He, not delaying,
gave the girl to the herald Eulogus. 5
Tell me, Severus, did he act foolishly at all?

In Pompeiano dormis, Laeuine, theatro:
et quereris si te suscitat Oceanus?

In the Pompeian theater you sleep, Laevinus:
and you complain if Ocean rouses you?

Pauca Iouem nuper cum milia forte rogarem,
     "Ille dabit" dixit "qui mihi templa dedit."
Templa quidem dedit ille Ioui, sed milia nobis
     nulla dedit: pudet, ah, pauca rogasse Iouem.
At quam non tetricus, quam nulla nubilus ira,              5
     quam placido nostras legerat ore preces!
Talis supplicibus tribuit diademata Dacis
     et Capitolinas itque reditque uias.

A few thousands from Jupiter recently when I by chance was asking,
     "He will give," he said, "who gave me temples."
Temples indeed he gave to Jupiter, but to us no thousands
     he gave: I am ashamed, ah, to have asked Jupiter for a few.
But how not grim, how clouded by no anger,              5
     how with a placid face he had read our prayers!
Such a one grants diadems to supplicant Dacians
     and goes and returns along the Capitoline ways.

Dic precor, o nostri dic conscia uirgo Tonantis,
si negat hoc uoltu, quo solet ergo dare? 10
Sic ego: sic breuiter posita mihi Gorgone Pallas:
"Quae nondum data sunt, stulte, negata putas?"

Say, I pray, O maiden conscious of our Thunderer,
if he refuses with this countenance, with what, then, is he wont to give? 10
Thus I: thus briefly Pallas, the Gorgon set in place for me:
"Do you, fool, think that things not yet given are denied?"

Quod non sit Pylades hoc tempore, non sit Orestes
     miraris? Pylades, Marce, bibebat idem,
nec melior panis turdusue dabatur Orestae,
     sed par atque eadem cena duobus erat.
Tu Lucrina uoras, me pascit aquosa peloris:              5
     non minus ingenua est et mihi, Marce, gula.

Do you marvel that there is not a Pylades in this time, not an Orestes?
     Pylades, Marcus, drank the same,
nor was better bread or thrush served to Orestes,
     but the dinner was equal and the same for the two.
You devour Lucrine oysters; the watery peloris feeds me:              5
     my gullet too, Marcus, is no less freeborn.

Te Cadmea Tyros, me pinguis Gallia uestit:
uis te purpureum, Marce, sagatus amem?
Vt praestem Pyladen, aliquis mihi praestet Oresten.
Hoc non fit uerbis, Marce: ut ameris, ama. 10

Cadmean Tyre clothes you; rich Gaul clothes me:
would you have me, Marcus, sagum-cloaked, love you in purple?
That I may provide a Pylades, let someone provide me an Orestes.
This is not done by words, Marcus: to be loved, love. 10

Iurat capillos esse, quos emit, suos
Fabulla: numquid illa, Paule, peierat?

Fabulla swears the hair which she bought is her own;
Paul, has she perjured herself at all?

Quis te Phidiaco formatam, Iulia, caelo,
     uel quis Palladiae non putet artis opus?
Candida non tacita respondet imagine lygdos
     et placido fulget uiuus in ore decor.
Ludit Acidalio, sed non manus aspera, nodo,              5
     quem rapuit collo, parue Cupido, tuo.

Who would think you, Julia, not shaped by the Phidian chisel,
     or not a work of Palladian art?
The bright Lygdian marble answers with a not-silent image,
     and living beauty gleams in the placid face.
A hand plays with the Acidalian knot, yet not a rough one,              5
     the knot which you, little Cupid, have snatched for your neck.

Vt Martis reuocetur amor summique Tonantis,
a te Iuno petat ceston et ipsa Venus.

So that the love of Mars and of the Highest Thunderer may be recalled,
let Juno seek the cestus from you, and Venus herself as well.

Versus scribere posse te disertos
adfirmas, Laberi: quid ergo non uis?
Versus scribere qui potest disertos,
conscribat, Laberi: uirum putabo.

You affirm that you can write eloquent verses, Laberius: why then do you not wish to?
He who can write eloquent verses, let him compose them, Laberius: I will deem him a man.

Dum Phaethontea formica uagatur in umbra,
inplicuit tenuem sucina gutta feram.
Sic modo quae fuerat uita contempta manente,
funeribus facta est nunc pretiosa suis.

While an ant wanders in the Phaethontean shade,
a drop of amber entangled the slight beast.
Thus what just now had been a life despised while it remained,
has now been made precious by its own funeral rites.

Tu qui pene uiros terres et falce cinaedos,
iugera sepositi pauca tuere soli.
Sic tua non intrent uetuli pomaria fures,
sed puer et longis pulchra puella comis.

You who with your penis terrify men and with your sickle pathics,
guard the few acres of sequestered soil.
Thus let not old thieves enter your orchards,
but a boy and a beautiful girl with long hair.

Cinnam, Cinname, te iubes uocari:
non est hic, rogo, Cinna, barbarismus?
Tu si Furius ante dictus esses,
Fur ista ratione dicereris.

“Cinnam,” Cinna, you order yourself to be called:
is not this, I ask, Cinna, a barbarism?
If you had previously been called Furius,
by that reasoning you would be called “Fur.”

Sancta Salonini terris requiescit Hiberis,
qua melior Stygias non uidet umbra domos.
Sed lugere nefas: nam qui te, Prisce, reliquit,
uiuit qua uoluit uiuere parte magis.

The holy dust of Saloninus rests in Iberian lands,
where no better shade beholds the Stygian homes.
But to mourn is impious: for he who left you, Priscus,
lives the more in that part wherein he wished to live.

Non de ui neque caede nec ueneno,
sed lis est mihi de tribus capellis:
uicini queror has abesse furto.
Hoc iudex sibi postulat probari:
tu Cannas Mithridaticumque bellum 5
et periuria Punici furoris
et Sullas Mariosque Muciosque
magna uoce sonas manuque tota.
Iam dic, Postume, de tribus capellis.

Not about violence, nor slaughter, nor poison,
but my suit is about three she-goats:
I complain that these are missing through my neighbor’s theft.
This the judge demands to be proved to himself:
but you blare out Cannae and the Mithridatic war 5
and the perjuries of Punic fury,
and the Sullas and the Mariuses and the Muciuses,
with a great voice and with your whole hand.
Now pronounce, Postumus, about the three she-goats.

Mutua te centum sestertia, Phoebe, rogaui,
cum mihi dixisses "Exigis ergo nihil?"
Inquiris, dubitas, cunctaris meque diebus
teque decem crucias: iam rogo, Phoebe, nega.

I asked you for a loan of a hundred thousand sesterces, Phoebe,
when you had said to me, "Do you exact, then, nothing?"
You inquire, you hesitate, you delay, and for ten days you torture
both me and yourself: now I beg, Phoebe, refuse.

Perpetuam Stella dum iungit Ianthida uati
     laeta Venus, dixit "Plus dare non potui."
Haec coram domina; sed nequius illud in aurem:
     "Tu ne quid pecces, exitiose, uide.
Saepe ego lasciuom Martem furibunda cecidi,              5
     legitimos esset cum uagus ante toros;
sed postquam meus est, nulla me paelice laesit:
     tam frugi Iuno uellet habere uirum."
Dixit et arcano percussit pectora loro.
     Plaga iuuat: sed tu iam, dea, caede duos.              10

While joyful Venus joins Janthis perpetually to the bard Stella,
     she said, "I could not give more."
This in the presence of the mistress; but, more naughtily, that in his ear:
     "See to it, you ruin-bringer, that you do not sin.
Often I, furious, struck down lascivious Mars,              5
     when he was a rover before legitimate couches;
but after he was mine, no concubine injured me:
     so frugal a husband Juno would wish to have."
She spoke and smote his breast with a secret thong.
     The stroke delights: but you now, goddess, slay two.              10

Quod nubis, Proculina, concubino
et, moechum modo, nunc facis maritum,
ne lex Iulia te notare possit:
non nubis, Proculina, sed fateris.

Because you are marrying, Proculina, your kept-man,
and—adulterer just now—now you make him a husband,
so that the Julian law cannot brand you:
you are not marrying, Proculina, but confessing.

Stare iubes semper nostrum tibi, Lesbia, penem:
crede mihi, non est mentula quod digitus.
Tu licet et manibus blandis et uocibus instes,
te contra facies imperiosa tua est.

You bid my penis to stand always for you, Lesbia:
believe me, a penis is not what a finger is.
Even if you press with coaxing hands and voices,
your imperious face is against you.

Nil lasciuius est Charisiano:
Saturnalibus ambulat togatus.

Nothing is more lascivious than Charisianus:
at the Saturnalia he walks about togate.

Marcelline, boni suboles sincera parentis,
     horrida Parrhasio quem tegit ursa iugo,
ille uetus pro te patriusque quid optet amicus
     accipe et haec memori pectore uota tene:
causa sit ut uirtus nec te temerarius ardor              5
     in medios enses saeuaque tela ferat.
Bella uellint Martemque ferum rationis egentes,
     tu potes et patris miles et esse ducis.

Marcellinus, sincere offspring of a good parent,
     whom the bristling Bear covers on the Parrhasian ridge,
accept what that old and fatherly friend wishes for you
     and hold these vows in a mindful breast:
let virtue be the cause, and let not rash ardor              5
     carry you into the midst of swords and savage missiles.
Let those lacking reason desire wars and fierce Mars;
     you can be a soldier both of your father and of your leader.

Periclitatur capite Sotades noster.
Reum putatis esse Sotaden? Non est.

Our Sotades is in peril of his head.
Do you think Sotades is the accused? He is not.

Arrigere desit posse Sotades: lingit.

Sotades lacks the ability to get it up: he licks.

Bis uicine Nepos—nam tu quoque proxima Florae
     incolis et ueteres tu quoque Ficelias „
est tibi, quae patria signatur imagine uoltus,
     testis maternae nata pudicitiae.
Tu tamen annoso nimium ne parce Falerno,              5
     et potius plenos aere relinque cados.
Sit pia, sit locuples, sed potet filia mustum:
     amphora cum domina nunc noua fiet anus.

Twice-neighbor Nepos—for you too dwell nearest to Flora,
     and you too inhabit the ancient Ficeliae „
you have a daughter, whose face is stamped with the father’s image,
     born as a witness of the mother’s pudicity.
Yet do not be too sparing of the long-aged Falernian,              5
     and rather leave jars full of bronze.
Let her be dutiful, let her be wealthy, but let the daughter drink must:
     the amphora, now new, with its mistress will become an old woman.

Caecuba non solos uindemia nutriat orbos:
possunt et patres uiuere, crede mihi. 10

Let Caecuban not have the vintage nourish only orphans:
fathers too can live, believe me. 10

Libertus Melioris ille notus,
tota qui cecidit dolente Roma,
cari deliciae breues patroni,
hoc sub marmore Glaucias humatus
iuncto Flaminiae iacet sepulcro: 5
castus moribus, integer pudore,
uelox ingenio, decore felix.
Bis senis modo messibus peractis
uix unum puer adplicabat annum.
Qui fles talia, nil fleas, uiator. 10

That well-known freedman of Melior,
who fell, all Rome grieving,
the brief delight of his dear patron,
Glaucias, buried beneath this marble,
lies in a sepulcher adjoining the Flaminian Way: 5
chaste in morals, unimpaired in modesty,
quick in wit, fortunate in comeliness.
With twice six months only just completed,
the boy scarcely made up a single year.
You who weep at such things, weep nothing, traveler. 10

Non de plebe domus nec auarae uerna catastae,
     sed domini sancto dignus amore puer,
munera cum posset nondum sentire patroni,
     Glaucia libertus iam Melioris erat.
Moribus hoc formaeque datum: quis blandior illo?              5
     Aut quis Apollineo pulchrior ore fuit?
Inmodicis breuis est aetas et rara senectus.

Not of the plebs was his house, nor a slave of the greedy auction-block,
     but a boy worthy of his master’s sacred love,
when he was not yet able to feel the gifts of his patron,
     Glaucias was already the freedman of Melior.
This was given by his character and his beauty: who was more winning than he?              5
     Or who was fairer with an Apollinean face?
For the immoderate, the span of life is brief and old age rare.

Quidquid amas, cupias non placuisse nimis.

Whatever you love, desire not to have pleased too much.

Sex sestertia si statim dedisses,
cum dixti mihi "Sume, tolle, dono,"
deberem tibi, Paete, pro ducentis.
At nunc cum dederis diu moratus,
post septem, puto, uel nouem Kalendas, 5
uis dicam tibi ueriora ueris?
Sex sestertia, Paete, perdidisti.

If you had given six sestertia at once,
when you said to me "Take, take, I give,"
I would owe you, Paetus, as for two hundred (sestertia).
But now, since you have given after a long delay,
after, I think, seven or even nine Kalends, 5
do you wish me to tell you things truer than truth?
You have lost six sestertia, Paetus.

Vxorem, Charideme, tuam scis ipse sinisque
a medico futui: uis sine febre mori.

You yourself, Charidemus, know and allow your wife to be fucked by the doctor:
you wish to die without a fever.

Cum dubitaret adhuc belli ciuilis Enyo
     forsitan et posset uincere mollis Otho,
damnauit multo staturum sanguine Martem
     et fodit certa pectora tota manu.
Sit Cato, dum uiuit, sane uel Caesare maior:              5
     dum moritur, numquid maior Othone fuit?

While Enyo of the civil war was still hesitating,
     and perhaps even soft Otho could prevail,
he condemned Mars as destined to cost much blood,
     and with his whole hand he stabbed his breast with sure aim.
Let Cato, while he lives, indeed be even greater than Caesar:              5
     while he dies, was he at all greater than Otho?

Nil miserabilius, Matho, pedicone Sabello
uidisti, quo nil laetius ante fuit.
Furta, fugae, mortes seruorum, incendia, luctus
adfligunt hominem, iam miser et futuit.

Nothing more pitiable, Matho, have you seen than Sabellus the buggerer,
than whom nothing was more cheerful before.
Thefts, flights, deaths of slaves, fires, mournings
afflict the man; now wretched—and he still fucks.

Basia da nobis, Diadumene, pressa. "Quot?" inquis.
     Oceani fluctus me numerare iubes
et maris Aegaei sparsas per litora conchas
     et quae Cecropio monte uagantur apes,
quaeque sonant pleno uocesque manusque theatro              5
     cum populus subiti Caesaris ora uidet.

Give us kisses, Diadumenus, close-pressed. "How many?" you ask.
     You bid me to number the waves of Oceanus
and the shells scattered along the shores of the Aegean Sea
     and the bees that wander on the Cecropian mount,
and the voices and the hands that resound in the full theater              5
     when the people behold the face of a sudden Caesar.

Nolo quot arguto dedit exorata Catullo
Lesbia: pauca cupit qui numerare potest.

I do not want as many as Lesbia, entreated, gave to the witty Catullus;
he who can count desires few.

Septem clepsydras magna tibi uoce petenti
     arbiter inuitus, Caeciliane, dedit.
At tu multa diu dicis uitreisque tepentem
     ampullis potas semisupinus aquam.
Vt tandem saties uocemque sitimque, rogamus              5
     iam de clepsydra, Caeciliane, bibas.

Seven water-clocks, as you asked with a great voice,
     the judge, unwilling, granted you, Caecilianus.
But you speak much for a long time and, half-reclining, you drink
     tepid water from glass ampoules.
So that at last you may sate both your voice and your thirst, we ask              5
     that now from the water-clock, Caecilianus, you drink.

Mentula tam magna est quantus tibi, Papyle, nasus,
ut possis, quotiens arrigis, olfacere.

Your prick is as big as your nose, Papylus,
so that you can, whenever you get erect, smell it.

Secti podicis usque ad umbilicum
nullas relliquias habet Charinus,
et prurit tamen usque ad umbilicum.
O quanta scabie miser laborat!
Culum non habet, est tamen cinaedus. 5

With his anus cut as far as the navel,
Charinus has no relics at all,
and yet he itches all the way to the navel.
O how great a scabies the poor wretch labors under!
He has no ass, yet he is a pathic. 5

Aspicis ut paruus nec adhuc trieteride plena
     Regulus auditum laudet et ipse patrem?
Maternosque sinus uiso genitore relinquat
     et patrias laudes sentiat esse suas?
Iam clamor centumque uiri densumque corona              5
     uolgus et infanti Iulia tecta placent.

Do you see how little Regulus, not yet with his trieteris complete,
     praises his father when heard—he himself as well?
And how, on seeing his genitor, he leaves the maternal bosom,
     and feels that his father’s praises are his own?
Already the clamor and the hundred-men court and the crowd dense in a corona              5
     and the Julian roofs please even the infant.

Acris equi suboles magno sic puluere gaudet,
sic uitulus molli proelia fronte cupit.
Di, seruate, precor, matri sua uota patrique,
audiat ut natum Regulus, illa duos. 10

A fiery horse’s offspring thus rejoices in the great dust,
thus does a calf desire battles with his soft brow.
O gods, preserve, I pray, the vows for mother and for father,
so that Regulus may hear his son, that she may hear two. 10

Pater ex Marulla, Cinna, factus es septem
non liberorum: namque nec tuus quisquam
nec est amici filiusue uicini,
sed in grabatis tegetibusque concepti
materna produnt capitibus suis furta. 5
Hic qui retorto crine Maurus incedit
subolem fatetur esse se coci Santrae;
at ille sima nare, turgidis labris
ipsa est imago Pannychi palaestritae.
Pistores esse tertium quis ignorat, 10
quicumque lippum nouit et uidet Damam?
Quartus cinaeda fronte, candido uoltu
ex concubino natus est tibi Lygdo:
percide, si uis, filium: nefas non est.

From Marulla, Cinna, you have been made the father of seven
not of freeborn children: for neither is any one yours
nor is he a friend’s or a neighbor’s son,
but, conceived on pallets and on rush-mats,
their heads betray their mother’s thefts. 5
Here the one who walks as a Moor with twisted hair
confesses himself to be the offspring of the cook Santra;
but that one, with a snub nose and swollen lips,
is the very image of Pannychus the wrestling-trainer.
Who is ignorant that the third is a baker, 10
whoever knows and sees bleary-eyed Dama?
A fourth, with an effeminate brow and a fair face,
was born to you from your male concubine Lygdus:
strike down, if you wish, the son: it is no impiety.

Hunc uero acuto capite et auribus longis, 15

But this one, with a sharp head and long ears, 15

quae sic mouentur ut solent asellorum,
quis morionis filium negat Cyrtae?
Duae sorores, illa nigra et haec rufa,
Croti choraulae uilicique sunt Carpi.
Iam Niobidarum grex tibi foret plenus 20
si spado Coresus Dindymusque non esset.

which move just as those of asses are wont,
who denies him to be the son of the jester of Cirta?
Two sisters, that dark one and this red-haired,
are the daughters of Crotus the choraules and of Carpus the estate-steward.
By now the herd of the Niobids would be full for you 20
if Coresus the eunuch and Dindymus were not eunuchs.

Femina praeferri potuit tibi nulla, Lycori:
praeferri Glycerae femina nulla potest.
Haec erit hoc quod tu: tu non potes esse quod haec est.
Tempora quid faciunt!

No woman could be preferred to you, Lycoris:
no woman can be preferred to Glycera.
She will be this which you are: you cannot be what she is.
What the times bring about!

Hanc uolo, te uolui.

I want this one; I wanted you.

Qui recitat lana fauces et colla reuinctus,
hic se posse loqui, posse tacere negat.

He who recites with his throat and neck bound with wool,
this man says he can speak, denies he can keep silence.

Etrusci nisi thermulis lauaris,
inlotus morieris, Oppiane.
Nullae sic tibi blandientur undae,
non fontes Aponi rudes puellis,
non mollis Sinuessa feruidique 5
fluctus Passeris aut superbus Anxur,
non Phoebi uada principesque Baiae.
Nusquam tam nitidum uacat serenum:
lux ipsa est ibi longior, diesque
nullo tardius a loco recedit. 10
Illic Taygeti uirent metalla
et certant uario decore saxa,
quae Phryx et Libys altius cecidit.

Unless you bathe in Etruscus’s little thermæ, unwashed you will die, Oppian.
No waves will so caress you, not Aponus’s springs, rough for maidens,
not gentle Sinuessa nor the fervid waves of the Passer, or haughty Anxur,
not Phoebus’s shallows and the princely Baiae. Nowhere is there so bright a serene leisure:
the very light is longer there, and day withdraws more slowly from no place. 10
There the metals of Taygetus grow green, and the stones vie in varied grace,
which the Phrygian and the Libyan have cut more deeply.

Siccos pinguis onyx anhelat aestus
et flamma tenui calent ophitae: 15

The rich onyx exhales dry heats,
and with a thin flame the ophite stones grow hot: 15

ritus si placeant tibi Laconum,
contentus potes arido uapore
cruda Virgine Marciaue mergi;
quae tam candida, tam serena lucet
ut nullas ibi suspiceris undas 20
et credas uacuam nitere lygdon.
Non adtendis et aure me supina
iam dudum quasi neglegenter audis:
inlotus morieris, Oppiane.

if the rites of the Laconians please you,
content with dry vapor you can be immersed
in the raw Virgo or the Marcia;
which shines so white, so serene
that you would suspect no waters there 20
and would believe an empty lygdon to be gleaming.
You do not attend, and with a supine ear
for quite a while now you have been hearing me as if negligently:
unwashed you will die, Oppian.

Dum tibi felices indulgent, Castrice, Baiae
     canaque sulphureis nympha natatur aquis,
me Nomentani confirmant otia ruris
     et casa iugeribus non onerosa suis.
Hoc mihi Baiani soles mollisque Lucrinus,              5
     hoc uestrae mihi sunt, Castrice, diuitiae.
Quondam laudatas quocumque libebat ad undas
     currere nec longas pertimuisse uias,
nunc urbis uicina iuuant facilesque recessus,
     et satis est pigro si licet esse mihi.              10

While prosperous Baiae indulges you, Castricus,
     and the hoary Nymph is bathed in sulfurous waters,
the leisures of the Nomentan countryside fortify me
     and a cottage not burdensome to its own acres.
This is for me the Baian suns and the soft Lucrine,              5
     these, Castricus, are for me your riches.
Once it pleased me to run to whatever praised waters,
     and not to dread long roads,
now the city’s neighboring places and easy recesses delight me,
     and it is enough, if I am permitted, to be sluggish.              10

Festiue credis te, Calliodore, iocari
     et solum multo permaduisse sale.
Omnibus adrides, dicteria dicis in omnis;
     sic te conuiuam posse placere putas.
At si ego non belle, sed uere dixero quiddam,              5
     nemo propinabit, Calliodore, tibi.

You think you jest wittily, Calliodorus,
     and that you alone have been well-soaked with much “salt.”
You smile at everyone, you speak quips against everyone;
     thus you think you can please as a dinner guest.
But if I should say something not nicely, but truly,              5
     no one will drink a toast to you, Calliodorus.

Lusistis, satis est: lasciui nubite cunni:
permissa est uobis non nisi casta Venus.
Haec est casta Venus? Nubit Laetoria Lygdo:
turpius uxor erit quam modo moecha fuit.

You have played—enough: wanton cunts, get married;
only chaste Venus is permitted to you.
Is this chaste Venus? Laetoria marries Lygdus:
she will be a wife more shameful than she was just now as an adulteress.

Vapulat adsiduo ueneti quadriga flagello
nec currit: magnam rem, Catiane, facit.

The Blue quadriga is flogged with an incessant whip
and does not run: it accomplishes a great thing, Catiane.

Nympha, mei Stellae quae fonte domestica puro
     laberis et domini gemmea tecta subis,
siue Numae coniunx Triuiae te misit ab antris
     siue Camenarum de grege nona uenis:
exoluit uotis hac se tibi uirgine porca              5
     Marcus, furtiuam quod bibit, aeger, aquam.
Tu contenta meo iam crimine gaudia fontis
     da secura tui: sit mihi sana sitis.

Nymph, who glide in the pure household spring of my Stella
     and enter beneath your master’s gemmed roofs,
whether the wife of Numa, of Trivia, sent you from the caverns
     or whether you come, the ninth, from the flock of the Camenae:
with this virgin sow Marcus has paid his vows to you,              5
     because, sick, he drank stolen water.
You, now satisfied with my offense, grant the joys of the spring
     secure in regard to yourself: let my thirst be healthy.

Quod tam grande sophos clamat tibi turba togata,
non tu, Pomponi, cena diserta tua est.

That the toga-clad crowd cries so great a “sophos” to you,
not you, Pomponius; it is your eloquent dinner.

Non sum de fragili dolatus ulmo,
nec quae stat rigida supina uena
de ligno mihi quolibet columna est,
sed uiua generata de cupressu:
quae nec saecula centiens peracta 5
nec longae cariem timet senectae.
Hanc tu, quisquis es o malus,timeto:
nam si uel minimos manu rapaci
hoc de palmite laeseris racemos,
nascetur, licet hoc uelis negare, 10
inserta tibi ficus a cupressu.

I am not hewn from brittle elm,
nor is the pillar for me, which stands with rigid supine grain,
from just any wood,
but alive, engendered from cypress:
which neither centuries a hundred times completed 5
nor the rot of long old age does it fear.
This one, whoever you are, O wicked man,beware:
for if with a rapacious hand even the smallest
clusters you injure from this vine-shoot,
there will be born, though you may wish to deny this, 10
a fig grafted to you from a cypress.

Cum coleret puros pauper Telesinus amicos,
     errabat gelida sordidus in togula:
obscenos ex quo coepit curare cinaedos,
     argentum, mensas, praedia solus emit.
Vis fieri diues, Bitynice? Conscius esto.              5
     Nil tibi uel minimum basia pura dabunt.

When poor Telesinus cultivated pure friends,
     he wandered, filthy, in a chilly little toga:
from the time he began to care for obscene pathics,
     he alone bought silver, tables, estates.
Do you wish to become rich, Bithynicus? Be privy.              5
     Pure kisses will give you nothing, not even the least.

Quod conuiuaris sine me tam saepe, Luperce,
inueni noceam qua ratione tibi.
Irascor: licet usque uoces mittasque rogesque „
"Quid facies?" inquis. Quid faciam?

That you banquet without me so often, Lupercus,
I have found by what rationale I may harm you.
I am angry: though you may unceasingly send your messages and make your requests „
"What will you do?" you ask. What will I do?

Veniam.

I will come.

Hoc iacet in tumulo raptus puerilibus annis
     Pantagathus, domini cura dolorque sui,
vix tangente uagos ferro resecare capillos
     doctus et hirsutas excoluisse genas.
Sis licet, ut debes, tellus, placata leuisque,              5
     artificis leuior non potes esse manu.

Here lies in the tumulus, snatched in boyish years—
     Pantagathus, his master’s care and grief,
skilled to trim the wandering hair with the iron scarcely touching,
     and to have refined the hirsute cheeks.
Though you be, as you ought, earth, appeased and light,              5
     you cannot be lighter than the hand of the artificer.

Lotus nobiscum est, hilaris cenauit, et idem
inuentus mane est mortuus Andragoras.
Tam subitae mortis causam, Faustine, requiris?
in somnis medicum uiderat Hermocraten.

He bathed with us, he dined cheerful, and the same
Andragoras was found dead in the morning.
Do you inquire, Faustinus, the cause of so sudden a death?
in his dreams he had seen the physician Hermocrates.

Tantos et tantas si dicere Sextilianum,
Aule, uetes, iunget uix tria uerba miser.
"Quid sibi uult?" inquis. Dicam quid suspicer esse:
tantos et tantas Sextilianus amat.

If, Aulus, you should forbid Sextilianus to say “so many men and so many women,”
the poor wretch will scarcely join three words.
“What does he want with that?” you ask. I will say what I suspect it to be:
Sextilianus loves so many men and so many women.

Quod semper casiaque cinnamoque
et nido niger alitis superbae
fragras plumbea Nicerotiana,
rides nos, Coracine, nil olentis,
malo quam bene olere nil olere. 5

Because you always smell of cassia and cinnamon,
and of the black nest of the proud bird,
you smell of Nicerotian leaden unguents,
you laugh at us, Coracinus, who smell of nothing;
I prefer to smell of nothing rather than to smell well. 5

Quod tibi crura rigent saetis et pectora uillis,
uerba putas famae te, Charideme, dare.
Extirpa, mihi crede, pilos de corpore toto
teque pilare tuas testificare natis.
"Quae ratio est?" inquis.

Because your legs are rigid with bristles and your chest with shag,
you think, Charidemus, that you are giving words to fame.
Extirpate, believe me, the hairs from your whole body,
and testify that you depilate your own buttocks.
"What is the reason?" you ask.

Scis multos dicere multa: 5
fac pedicari te, Charideme, putent.

You know many say many things: 5
see to it they think you are being sodomized, Charidemus.

Mentiris fictos unguento, Phoebe, capillos
et tegitur pictis sordida calua comis.
Tonsorem capiti non est adhibere necesse:
radere te melius spongea, Phoebe, potest.

You counterfeit feigned hair with unguent, Phoebe,
and your sordid bald pate is hidden by painted tresses.
There is no need to apply a barber to your head:
a sponge, Phoebe, can shave you better.

Cernere Parrhasios dum te iuuat, Aule, triones
     comminus et Getici sidera pigra poli,
o quam paene tibi Stygias ego raptus ad undas
     Elysiae uidi nubila fusca plagae!
Quamuis lassa tuos quaerebant lumina uoltus              5
     atque erat in gelido plurimus ore Pudens.
Si mihi lanificae ducunt non pulla sorores
     stamina nec surdos uox habet ista deos,
sospite me sospes Latias reueheris ad urbes
     et referes pili praemia clarus eques.              10

While it pleases you, Aulus, to behold the Parrhasian Bears
     at close quarters and the sluggish constellations of the Getic pole,
O how I, almost snatched to the Stygian waters for your sake,
     saw the dusky clouds of the Elysian tract!
Although my weary eyes were searching for your features,              5
     and “Pudens” was ever on my gelid lips.
If the wool-working Sisters do not draw for me dark threads
     and this voice does not find the gods deaf,
with me safe, safe you will be borne back to the Latian cities
     and, a famous eques, you will carry back the prizes of the spear.              10

Et dolet et queritur sibi non contingere frigus
     propter sescentas Baccara gausapinas,
optat et obscuras luces uentosque niuesque,
     odit et hibernos, si tepuere, dies.
Quid fecere mali nostrae tibi, saeue, lacernae              5
     tollere de scapulis quas leuis aura potest?
Quanto simplicius, quanto est humanius illud,
     mense uel Augusto sumere gausapinas!

He both grieves and complains that cold does not befall him
     because of six hundred Baccaran shaggy cloaks,
he even longs for dark days and winds and snows,
     and he hates winter days if they grow tepid.
What harm have our lacernae done to you, savage man,              5
     which a light breeze can lift from the shoulders?
How much simpler, how much more humane is this:
     to put on shaggy cloaks even in the month of August!

Laudat, amat, cantat nostros mea Roma libellos,
meque sinus omnes, me manus omnis habet.
Ecce rubet quidam, pallet, stupet, oscitat, odit.
Hoc uolo: nunc nobis carmina nostra placent.

My Rome praises, loves, and sings our little books,
and every bosom has me, every hand has me.
Behold, someone blushes, grows pale, is stupefied, yawns, hates.
This I want: now our songs please us.

Rem factam Pompullus habet, Faustine: legetur
     et nomen toto sparget in orbe suum.
"Sic leue flauorum ualeat genus Vsiporum
     quisquis et Ausonium non amat imperium."
Ingeniosa tamen Pompulli scripta feruntur.              5
     "Sed famae non est hoc, mihi crede, satis:
quam multi tineas pascunt blattasque diserti
     et redimunt soli carmina docta coci!
Nescio quid plus est, quod donat saecula chartis:
     uicturus genium debet habere liber."              10

Pompullus has the thing accomplished, Faustinus: he will be read
     and will spread his name through the whole world.
"So may the slight race of the blond Usipi fare well,
     and whoever does not love the Ausonian empire."
Nevertheless Pompullus’s writings are reported to be ingenious.              5
     "But this is not enough for Fame, believe me:
how many eloquent men feed moths and cockroaches,
     and only cooks redeem learned songs!
There is I know not what more, which grants ages to paper:
     a book that is going to live ought to have a genius."              10

Amisit pater unicum Salanus
cessas munera mittere, Oppiane?
Heu crudele nefas malaeque Parcae!
Cuius uulturis hoc erit cadauer?

Salanus, a father, has lost his only child
do you delay to send gifts, Oppianus?
Alas, cruel abomination and the evil Fates!
Which vulture will this cadaver belong to?

Scis te captare, scis hunc qui captat, auarum,
     et scis qui captat quid, Mariane, uelit.
Tu tamen hunc tabulis heredem, stulte, supremis
     scribis et esse tuo uis, furiose, loco.
"Munera magna tamen misit." Sed misit in hamo;              5
     et piscatorem piscis amare potest?

You know you are being angled for; you know that this man who angles is avaricious,
     and you know what the one who angles wants, Marianus.
Yet you, fool, write this man as heir on your last tablets,
     and, madman, you want him to be in your place.
"Yet he sent great gifts." But he sent them on a hook;              5
     and can a fish love the fisherman?

Hicine deflebit uero tua fata dolore?
Si cupis, ut ploret, des, Mariane, nihil.

Will this fellow bewail your fates with true grief?
If you wish him to weep, Marianus, give nothing.

Cum sis nec rigida Fabiorum gente creatus
nec qualem Curio, dum prandia portat aranti,
hirsuta peperit rubicunda sub ilice coniunx,
sed patris ad speculum tonsi matrisque togatae
filius, et possit sponsam te sponsa uocare:              5
emendare meos, quos nouit fama, libellos
et tibi permittis felicis carpere nugas,
has, inquam, nugas, quibus aurem aduertere totam
non aspernantur proceres urbisque forique
quas et perpetui dignantur scrinia Sili              10
et repetit totiens facundo Regulus ore,
quique uidet propius magni certamina Circi
laudat Auentinae uicinus Sura Dianae,
ipse etiam tanto dominus sub pondere rerum
non dedignatur bis terque reuoluere Caesar.              15

Since you are born neither of the rigid clan of the Fabii,
nor such as a shaggy, ruddy wife, while she carries lunches to the ploughman,
bore for Curio beneath the holm-oak,
but the son of a father shorn at the mirror and of a toga-clad mother,
and your bride could even call you “bride”:              5
to emend my little books, which fame knows,
you permit yourself, and to carp at the trifles of a fortunate man—
these trifles, I say, to which to turn the whole ear
the chiefs of city and forum do not disdain,
which even the book-chests of everlasting Silius deem worthy,              10
and eloquent Regulus so often recites with his mouth,
and Sura, neighbor to Aventine Diana,
who sees from nearer at hand the contests of the great Circus, praises;
even he himself, the lord under so great a weight of affairs—
Caesar—does not disdain to turn them over twice or thrice.              15

Sed tibi plus mentis, tibi cor limante Minerua
acrius et tenues finxerunt pectus Athenae.
Ne ualeam, si non multo sapit altius illud,
quod cum panticibus laxis et cum pede grandi
et rubro pulmone uetus nasisque timendum 20
omnia crudelis lanius per compita portat.
Audes praeterea, quos nullus nouerit, in me
scribere uersiculos miseras et perdere chartas.

But for you there is more mind; for you, with Minerva’s file, Athena has fashioned a keener heart and a delicate breast.
May I not prosper, if that does not savor much higher—
that stuff which, with flabby paunches and with a big foot and a red lung, old and to be dreaded for noses, 20
all this the cruel butcher carries through the crossroads.
You even dare, besides, to write little wretched verses against me, which no one will know, and to waste sheets.

At si quid nostrae tibi bilis inusserit ardor,
uiuet et haerebit totoque legetur in orbe, 25
stigmata nec uafra delebit Cinnamus arte.
Sed miserere tui, rabido nec perditus ore
fumantem nasum uiui temptaueris ursi.
Sit placidus licet et lambat digitosque manusque,
si dolor et bilis, si iusta coegerit ira, 30

But if the ardor of my bile has branded you at all,
it will live and cling and be read in the whole world, 25
nor will Cinnamus erase the stigmata with wily art.
But have pity on yourself, and do not, undone by a rabid mouth,
tempt the steaming snout of a living bear.
Though he be placid and lick both fingers and hands,
if pain and bile, if just wrath has compelled, 30

ursus erit: uacua dentes in pelle fatiges
et tacitam quaeras, quam possis rodere, carnem.

he will be a bear: fatigue your teeth on an empty pelt
and seek the silent flesh which you can gnaw.

"Hexametris epigramma facis" scio dicere Tuccam.
Tucca, solet fieri, denique, Tucca, licet.
"Sed tamen hoc longum est." Solet hoc quoque, Tucca, licetque:
si breuiora probas, disticha sola legas.

"You make an epigram in hexameters," I know Tucca to say.
Tucca, it is customary; and after all, Tucca, it is permitted.
"But still this is long." This too is customary, Tucca, and is permitted:
if you approve of shorter things, read only distichs.

Conueniat nobis ut fas epigrammata longa 5
sit transire tibi, scribere, Tucca, mihi.

Let it be agreed between us that it is permitted that the long epigrams 5
be for you to pass over, for me to write, Tucca.

Famae non nimium bonae puellam,
quales in media sedent Suburra,
uendebat modo praeco Gellianus.
Paruo cum pretio diu liceret,
dum puram cupit adprobare cunctis, 5
adtraxit prope se manu negantem
et bis terque quaterque basiauit.
Quid profecerit osculo requiris?

a girl of not too good repute,
such as sit in the middle Suburra,
the crier Gellianus was just selling.
Since for a small price it was long permitted,
while he wishes to approve her as pure to all, 5
he drew the refusing one near to himself with his hand
and kissed her twice and thrice and four times.
You ask what he has profited by the kiss?

Sescentos modo qui dabat negauit.

The one who just now was offering six hundred refused.

Cur tantum eunuchos habeat tua Caelia, quaeris,
Pannyche? Volt futui Caelia nec parere.

Why your Caelia has so many eunuchs, you ask,
Pannychus? Caelia wants to fuck and not to give birth.

Flete nefas uestrum sed toto flete Lucrino,
     Naides, et luctus sentiat ipsa Thetis.
Inter Baianas raptus puer occidit undas
     Eutychos ille, tuum, Castrice, dulce latus.
Hic tibi curarum socius blandumque leuamen,              5
     hic amor, hic nostri uatis Alexis erat.

Weep your nefas, but weep throughout the whole Lucrine, Naiads;
     and let Thetis herself feel the mourning.
Among the Baian waves a boy, snatched away, has perished—
     Eutychus—that one, your sweet side, Castricus.
This for you was a partner of cares and a soothing alleviation,              5
     this was love, this was our poet’s Alexis.

Numquid te uitreis nudum lasciua sub undis
     uidit et Alcidae nympha remisit Hylan?
An dea femineum iam neglegit Hermaphroditum
     amplexu teneri sollicita uiri?              10
Quidquid id est, subitae quaecumque est causa rapinae,
     sit, precor, et tellus mitis et unda tibi.

Did the lascivious nymph see you naked beneath the vitreous waves,
     and send back Hylas of Alcides?
Or does the goddess now neglect effeminate Hermaphroditus,
     eager that a man be held in her embrace?              10
Whatever it is, whatever the cause of the sudden rapine,
     may, I pray, both the earth and the wave be gentle to you.

Non miror quod potat aquam tua Bassa, Catulle:
miror quod Bassae filia potet aquam.

I do not marvel that your Bassa drinks water, Catullus:
I marvel that Bassa’s daughter drinks water.

Sexagesima, Marciane, messis
acta est et, puto, iam secunda Cottae
nec se taedia lectuli calentis
expertum meminit die uel uno.
Ostendit digitum, sed inpudicum, 5
Alconti Dasioque Symmachoque.
At nostri bene computentur anni
et quantum tetricae tulere febres
aut languor grauis aut mali dolores
a uita meliore separetur: 10
infantes sumus et senes uidemur.

The sixtieth harvest has been reaped, Marcian,
and, I think, already the second for Cotta;
nor does he remember that he has experienced
the tediums of a warm little bed for even a single day.
He shows a finger, but an indecent one, 5
to Alcontus and to Dasius and to Symmachus.
But let our years be well computed,
and let whatever the grim fevers, or heavy languor,
or evil pains have carried off be set apart from a better life: 10
we are infants and we seem old men.

Aetatem Priamique Nestorisque
longam qui putat esse, Marciane,
multum decipiturque falliturque.
15Non est uiuere, sed ualere uita est.

He who thinks the age of Priam and of Nestor
to be long, Marciane,
is much deceived and deluded.
15Life is not living, but being well.

Edere lasciuos ad Baetica crusmata gestus
     et Gaditanis ludere docta modis,
tendere quae tremulum Pelian Hecubaeque maritum
     posset ad Hectoreos sollicitare rogos,
urit et excruciat dominum Telethusa priorem:              5
     uendidit ancillam, nunc redimit dominam.

To perform lascivious Baetican castanet gestures
     and, skilled, to sport in Gaditan modes,
who could stretch forth so as to draw the trembling Pelian and Hecuba’s husband
     toward Hectorian pyres to be stirred,
burns and excruciates her former master, Telethusa:              5
     he sold a maidservant; now he buys back a mistress.

Fur notae nimium rapacitatis
compilare Cilix uolebat hortum,
ingenti sed erat, Fabulle, in horto
praeter marmoreum nihil Priapum.
Dum non uolt uacua manu redire, 5
ipsum subripuit Cilix Priapum.

A thief of notoriously excessive rapacity
Cilix wanted to plunder a garden,
but, Fabullus, in the immense garden there was
nothing except a marble Priapus.
While he was unwilling to return with an empty hand, 5
Cilix stole Priapus himself.

Non rudis indocta fecit me falce colonus:
     dispensatoris nobile cernis opus.
Nam Caeretani cultor ditissimus agri
     hos Hilarus colles et iuga laeta tenet.
Aspice quam certo uidear non ligneus ore              5
     nec deuota focis inguinis arma geram,
sed mihi perpetua numquam moritura cupresso
     Phidiaca rigeat mentula digna manu.

Not a rough farmer with an unskilled sickle made me:
     you behold the noble work of the steward.
For Hilarus, the richest cultivator of the Caeretan field,
     holds these hills and the joyous ridges.
Behold how surely I appear not wooden in face,              5
     nor do I bear the weapons of the groin vowed to the hearths,
but let my phallus be rigid with an everlasting cypress never to die,
     worthy of Phidias’s hand.

Vicini, moneo, sanctum celebrate Priapum
et bis septenis parcite iugeribus. 10

Neighbors, I warn, celebrate holy Priapus
and spare the 14 iugera. 10

Medio recumbit imus ille qui lecto,
caluam trifilem semitatus unguento,
foditque tonsit ora laxa lentiscis,
mentitur, Aefulane: non habet dentes.

On the middle couch reclines that lowest fellow,
his bald pate three-parted, tracked with unguent,
and he gouges and shears his slack gums with mastic twigs;
he is pretending, Aefulanus: he does not have teeth.

Cum mittis turdumue mihi quadramue placentae,
siue femur leporis siue quid his simile est,
buccellas misisse tuas te, Pontia, dicis.
Has ego non mittam, Pontia, sed nec edam.

When you send to me either a thrush or a quarter of a cake,
or the thigh of a hare or something similar to these,
you say, Pontia, that you have sent your morsels.
Such I will not send, Pontia, but neither will I eat them.

Ille sacri lateris custos Martisque togati,
     credita cui summi castra fuere ducis,
hic situs est Fuscus. Licet hoc, Fortuna, fateri:
     non timet hostilis iam lapis iste minas;
grande iugum domita Dacus ceruice recepit              5
     et famulum uictrix possidet umbra nemus.

That guardian of the sacred side and of Mars in toga,
     to whom the camp of the supreme leader was entrusted,
here lies Fuscus. Permit this, Fortune, to be confessed:
     this stone no longer fears hostile menaces;
the Dacian has received a great yoke upon his tamed neck              5
     and his victorious shade possesses the grove as a servant.

Cum sis tam pauper quam nec miserabilis Iros,
     tam iuuenis quam nec Parthenopaeus erat,
tam fortis quam nec cum uinceret Artemidorus,
     quid te Cappadocum sex onus esse iuuat?
Rideris multoque magis traduceris, Afer,              5
     quam nudus medio si spatiere foro.
Non aliter monstratur Atlans cum compare ginno
     quaeque uehit similem belua nigra Libyn.

Since you are as poor as not even wretched Irus,
     as young as not even Parthenopaeus was,
as strong as not even Artemidorus when he was conquering,
     what does it profit you to be the burden of six Cappadocians?
You are laughed at, and far more are you paraded to scorn, African,              5
     than if you were to stroll naked in the middle of the Forum.
No otherwise is Atlas displayed with his paired ginnus,
     and the black beast that carries a Libyan like to itself.

Inuidiosa tibi quam sit lectica requiris?
Non debes ferri mortuus hexaphoro. 10

Do you ask how invidious a litter is for you?
You ought not to be carried, dead, on a six-bearer bier. 10

Potor nobilis, Aule, lumine uno
luscus Phryx erat alteroque lippus.
Huic Heras medicus "Bibas caueto:
uinum si biberis, nihil uidebis."
Ridens Phryx oculo "Valebis" inquit. 5
Misceri sibi protinus deunces,
sed crebros iubet. Exitum requiris?

Noble drinker, Aulus, the Phrygian was one-eyed in one eye and bleary in the other.
To him the medic Heras said, "Beware of drinking: if you drink wine, you will see nothing."
Laughing with his one eye, the Phrygian said, "Farewell to you." 5
He at once orders deunces (eleven‑twelfths measures) to be mixed for himself,
but frequent ones. Do you ask the outcome?

Vinum Phryx, oculus bibit uenenum.

The Phrygian drinks wine; the eye drinks poison.

Tristis es et felix. Sciat hoc Fortuna caueto:
ingratum dicet te, Lupe, si scierit.

You are sad and fortunate. Beware lest Fortune know this:
she will call you ungrateful, Lupe, if she learns it.

Vt noua dona tibi, Caesar, Nilotica tellus
     miserat hibernas ambitiosa rosas.
Nauita derisit Pharios Memphiticus hortos,
     urbis ut intrauit limina prima tuae:
tantus ueris honos et odorae gratia Florae              5
     tantaque Paestani gloria ruris erat;
sic, quacumque uagus gressumque oculosque ferebat,
     tonsilibus sertis omne rubebat iter.
At tu Romanae iussus iam cedere brumae
     mitte tuas messes, accipe, Nile, rosas.              10

As new gifts to you, Caesar, the Nilotic land
     had sent ambitious winter roses.
The Memphian sailor derided the Pharian gardens,
     as he entered the first thresholds of your city:
so great the honor of spring and the favor of odorous Flora              5
     and so great the glory of the Paestan countryside;
thus, wherever he, wandering, bore his step and his eyes,
     every way was reddened with shorn garlands.
But you, ordered now to yield to the Roman winter,
     send your harvests, accept, Nile, roses.              10

Iratus tamquam populo, Charideme, lauaris:
inguina sic toto subluis in solio.
nec caput hic uellem sic te, Charideme, lauare.
Et caput ecce lauas: inguina malo laues.

You bathe, Charideme, as if irate at the people;
thus you sluice your groin in the whole tub.
nor would I wish you to wash your head here in this way, Charideme.
And look, you wash your head: I’d rather you wash your groin.

Quidam me modo, Rufe, diligenter
inspectum, uelut emptor aut lanista,
cum uoltu digitoque subnotasset,
"Tune es, tune" ait "ille Martialis,
cuius nequitias iocosque nouit 5
aurem qui modo non habet Batauam?"
Subrisi modice, leuique nutu
me quem dixerat esse non negaui.
"Cur ergo" inquit "habes malas lacernas?"
Respondi: "quia sum malus poeta." 10
Hoc ne saepius accidat poetae,
mittas, Rufe, mihi bonas lacernas.

A certain fellow just now, Rufus, after looking me over
carefully, like a buyer or a lanista,
when with face and finger he had marked me down,
“You are, you are,” he says, “that Martial,
whose naughtinesses and jokes are known to every ear 5
that does not just now have a Batavian ear?”
I smiled a little, and with a light nod
I did not deny that I was the one he had named. “Why then,” he says, “do you have shabby cloaks?”
I answered: “Because I am a bad poet.” 10
So that this may not happen too often to the poet,
send me, Rufus, some good cloaks.

Quantum sollicito fortuna parentis Etrusco,
     tantum, summe ducum, debet uterque tibi.
Nam tu missa tua reuocasti fulmina dextra:
     hos cuperem mores ignibus esse Iouis;
si tua sit summo, Caesar, natura Tonanti,              5
     utetur toto fulmine rara manus.
Muneris hoc utrumque tui testatur Etruscus,
     esse quod et comiti contigit et reduci.

As much as fortune owes to the anxious father Etruscus,
     so much, highest of leaders, each of the two owes to you.
For you recalled with your right hand the bolts you had sent:
     I would wish these manners to belong to the fires of Jove;
if your nature, Caesar, were that of the Highest Thunderer,              5
     a rare hand would use the entire thunderbolt.
Etruscus attests both this of your beneficence,
     in that it befell him both as a companion and as a returnee.

Octaphoro sanus portatur, Auite, Philippus.
Hunc tu si sanum credis, Auite, furis.

Philip, sane, is carried on an eight‑bearer litter, Avitus.
If you believe this man sane, Avitus, you are raving.

Editur en sextus sine te mihi, Rufe Camoni,
     nec te lectorem sperat, amice, liber:
impia Cappadocum tellus et numine laeuo
     uisa tibi cineres reddit et ossa patri.
Funde tuo lacrimas orbata Bononia Rufo,              5
     et resonet tota planctus in Aemilia:
heu qualis pietas, heu quam breuis occidit aetas!
     uiderat Alphei praemia quinta modo.

See, a sixth is published for me without you, Rufus Camonius,
     nor does the book, friend, hope for you as a reader:
the impious land of the Cappadocians, seen under an adverse numen,
     returns to your father your ashes and bones.
Pour out tears, Bologna, bereft of your Rufus,              5
     and let lamentation resound through all Emilia:
alas what piety, alas how brief an age has perished!
     he had only just seen the fifth prizes of Alpheus.

Pectore tu memori nostros euoluere lusus,
tu solitus totos, Rufe, tenere iocos, 10
accipe cum fletu maesti breue carmen amici
atque haec absentis tura fuisse puta.

You, with a mindful heart, to unroll our playful pieces,
you, Rufus, accustomed to keep all the jests entire, 10
receive with tears the brief song of a sad friend
and think that these were the incense of the absent.

Setinum dominaeque niues densique trientes,
     quando ego uos medico non prohibente bibam?
Stultus et ingratus nec tanto munere dignus
     qui mauult heres diuitis esse Midae.
Possideat Libycas messis Hermumque Tagumque,              5
     et potet caldam, qui mihi liuet, aquam.

Setine and my lady’s snows and brimming trientes,
     when shall I drink you with the doctor not forbidding?
Foolish and ungrateful and not worthy of so great a gift
     is he who prefers to be the heir of rich Midas.
Let him possess Libyan harvests and the Hermus and the Tagus,              5
     and let him drink warm water, whoever envies me.

Di tibi dent et tu, Caesar, quaecumque mereris:
di mihi dent et tu quae uolo, si merui.

May the gods grant to you—and you, Caesar—whatever you merit:
may the gods grant to me—and you—the things I want, if I have merited.

Mane salutaui uero te nomine casu
nec dixi dominum, Caeciliane, meum.
Quanta libertas constet mihi tanta requiris?
Centum quadrantes abstuli illa mihi.

In the morning I saluted you by your true name by chance,
and did not say “my lord,” Caecilianus.
How much such liberty costs me, you inquire?
I have taken away from myself a hundred quadrantes for that.

Cum peteret seram media iam nocte matellam
     arguto madidus pollice Panaretus,
Spoletina data est, sed quam siccauerat ipse,
     nec fuerat soli tota lagona satis.
Ille fide summa testae sua uina remensus              5
     reddidit oenophori pondera plena sui.
Miraris, quantum biberat, cepisse lagonam?

When he was asking late, now at midnight, for the chamber-pot,
     Panaretus, soaked, with a shrilling thumb,
a Spoletean one was given, but one which he himself had dried,
     nor had a whole flagon been sufficient for him alone.
He, with the utmost good faith, in an earthenware pot measured back his own wines,              5
     he restored the oenophore’s weights, full of its own.
Do you marvel, given how much he had drunk, that the flagon had contained it?

Desine mirari, Rufe: merum biberat.

Cease to marvel, Rufus: he had drunk pure wine.

Moechum Gellia non habet nisi unum.
Turpe est hoc magis: uxor est duorum.

Gellia has no adulterer save one.
This is more shameful: she is the wife of two.

Sancta ducis summi prohibet censura uetatque
moechari. Gaude, Zoile, non futuis.

The sacred censure of the supreme leader prohibits and forbids
adultery. Rejoice, Zoilus—you don’t fuck.

Caelatus tibi cum sit, Anniane,
serpens in patera Myronos arte,
Vaticana bibis: bibis uenenum.

Since a serpent, Annianus, is engraved for you
in a patera by the art of Myron,
you drink Vatican wine: you drink poison.

Tam male Thais olet quam non fullonis auari
     testa uetus media, sed modo fracta uia,
non ab amore recens hircus, non ora leonis,
     non detracta cani transtiberina cutis,
pullus abortiuo nec cum putrescit in ouo,              5
     amphora corrupto nec uitiata garo.
Virus ut hoc alio fallax permutet odore,
     deposita quotiens balnea ueste petit,
psilothro uiret aut acida latet oblita creta
     aut tegitur pingui terque quaterque faba.              10
Cum bene se tutam per fraudes mille putauit,
     omnia cum fecit, Thaida Thais olet.

Thais smells so badly as not even the old potsherd of a greedy fuller,
     just now broken in the middle of the street; not a he-goat fresh from love,
not a lion’s jaws, not the skin stripped from a Trans-Tiberine dog,
     not a chick abortive when it rots in the egg,
nor a jar tainted with corrupted garum.              5
     So that, deceitful, she may exchange this poison for another odor,
whenever, her clothes laid aside, she seeks the baths,
she turns green with depilatory or lies hidden, smeared with acid chalk,
     or is covered three and four times with rich bean-meal.              10
When she has well supposed herself safe through a thousand deceits,
     when she has done everything, Thais smells of Thais.

Ponatur semper chrysendeta Calpetano
siue foris seu cum cenat in urbe domi.
Sic etiam in stabulo semper, sic cenat in agro.
Non habet ergo aliud?

Let the chrysendeta always be set for Calpetanus,
whether away or when he dines at home in the city.
Thus also always in the stable; thus he dines in the field.
Has he, then, anything else?

Non habet immo suum.

He does not—nay rather, he has his own.