Martial: EPIGRAMMATON LIBRI

1. Omnes quidem libelli mei, domine, quibus tu famam, id est uitam, dedisti, tibi supplicant; et, puto, propter hoc legentur. 2. Hic tamen, qui operis nostri octauus inscribitur, occasione pietatis frequentius fruitur. 3. Minus itaque ingenio laborandum fuit, in cuius locum materia successerat: quam quidem subinde aliqua iocorum mixtura uariare temptauimus, ne caelesti uerecundiae tuae laudes suas, quae facilius te fatigare possint quam nos satiare, omnis uersus ingereret.

1. Indeed all my little books, lord, to which you gave fame, that is, life, supplicate to you; and, I think, for this reason they will be read. 2. This one, however, which is entitled the eighth of our work, more frequently enjoys the occasion for piety. 3. Therefore there was less need to labor with ingenuity, in whose place the material had succeeded: which indeed we have tried from time to time to vary with some mixture of jests, lest every verse thrust its praises upon your celestial modesty, praises which could more easily weary you than satisfy us.

4. Quamuis autem epigrammata a seuerissimis quoque et summae fortunae uiris ita scripta sint ut mimicam uerborum licentiam adfectasse uideantur, ego tamen illis non permisi tam lasciui loqui quam solent. 5. Cum pars libri et maior et melior ad maiestatem sacri nominis tui alligata sit, meminerit non nisi religiosa purificatione lustratos accedere ad templa debere. 6. Quod ut custoditurum me lecturi sciant, in ipso libelli huius limine profiteri breuissimo placuit epigrammate.

4. Although epigrams, even by the most severe men and those of the highest fortune, have been written in such a way that they seem to have affected a mimic license of words, yet I did not allow them to speak so wantonly as they are wont. 5. Since the part of the book both greater and better is bound to the majesty of your sacred name, let it be remembered that only those lustrated by religious purification ought to approach the temples. 6. That those about to read may know that I will keep this, it has pleased me to profess it at the very threshold of this little book by a most brief epigram.

Laurigeros domini, liber, intrature penates
disce uerecundo sanctius ore loqui.
Nuda recede Venus; non est tuus iste libellus:
tu mihi, tu Pallas Caesariana, ueni.

Book, about to enter the lord’s laurel-bearing Penates,
learn to speak more sacredly with a modest mouth.
Naked, withdraw, Venus; this little book is not yours:
you, come to me, you Caesarian Pallas.

Fastorum genitor parensque lanus
uictorem modo cum uideret Histri,
tot uultus sibi non satis putauit
optauitque oculos habere plures,
et lingua pariter locutus omni 5
terrarum domino deoque rerum
promisit Pyliam quater senectam.
Addas, Iane pater, tuam rogamus.

Begetter and parent of the Fasti, janus,
when he just now saw the victor of the Ister,
deemed so many visages not enough for himself
and wished to have more eyes,
and, speaking equally with every tongue 5
to the lord of lands and the god of things
promised Pylian old age four times over.
Add your own, Father Janus, we ask.

"Quinque satis fuerant: nam sex septemue libelli
    est nimium: quid adhuc ludere, Musa, iuuat?
Sit pudor et finis: iam plus nihil addere nobis
    fama potest: teritur noster ubique liber;
et cum rupta situ Messallae saxa iacebunt              5
    altaque cum Licini marmora puluis erunt,
me tamen ora legent et secum plurimus hospes
    ad patrias sedes carmina nostra feret."
Finieram, cum sic respondit nona sororum,
    cui coma et unguento sordida uestis erat:              10
"Tune potes dulcis, ingrate, relinquere nugas?
    dic mihi, quid melius desidiosus ages?

"Five would have been enough: for six or seven little books
    is too much: why, Muse, does it please you to play still further?
Let there be modesty and an end: now fame can add nothing more
    to us: my book is worn everywhere;
and when the stones of Messalla, broken by neglect, will lie,              5
    and when the lofty marbles of Licinus will be dust,
yet mouths will read me, and many a guest will carry
    our songs with him to his native seats."
I had finished, when thus the ninth of the sisters replied,
    whose hair and garment were begrimed with unguent:              10
"Can you, sweet ingrate, leave your trifles?
    tell me, idle man, what better will you do?

an iuuat ad tragicos soccum transferre coturnos
aspera uel paribus bella tonare modis,
praelegat ut tumidus rauca te uoce magister, 15

or does it please to transfer the sock to tragic buskins,
to thunder forth wars, harsh, or in equal measures,
so that a tumid teacher may read you out with a hoarse voice, 15

    oderit et grandis uirgo bonusque puer?
Scribant ista graues nimium nimiumque seueri,
    quos media miseros nocte lucerna uidet;
at tu Romano lepidos sale tingue libellos:
    adgnoscat mores uita legatque suos.              20
Angusta cantare licet uidearis auena,
    dum tua multorum uincat auena tubas."

    will both the stately maiden and the good boy hate it?
Let those things be written by the grave and far, far too severe,
    whom the lamp sees wretched in the middle of the night;
but you, tinge your charming little books with Roman salt;
    let life recognize its mores and read its own.              20
Though you may seem to sing on a narrow oaten reed,
    so long as your reed vanquish the trumpets of many."

Quantus, io, Latias mundi conuentus ad aras
suscipit et soluit pro duce uota suo!
Non sunt haec hominum, Germanice, gaudia tantum,
sed faciunt ipsi nunc, puto, sacra dei.

Lo, how great the world’s convocation to the Latin altars
takes up and pays its vows for its leader!
These are not the joys of men only, Germanicus,
but, I think, the gods themselves now perform the sacred rites.

Dum donas, Macer, anulos puellis,
desisti, Macer, anulos habere.

While you give, Macer, rings to girls,
you have ceased, Macer, to have rings.

Archetypis uetuli nihil est odiosius Eucti
    (ficta Saguntino cymbia malo luto),
argenti furiosa sui cum stemmata narrat
    garrulus et uerbis mucida uina facit:
"Laomedonteae fuerant haec pocula mensae:              5
    ferret ut haec, muros struxit Apollo lyra.
Hoc cratere ferox commisit proelia Rhoctus
    cum Lapithis: pugna debile cernis opus.
Hi duo longaeuo censentur Nestore fundi:
    pollice de Pylio trita columba nitet.

Nothing is more odious than the archetypes of little-old Euctus
    (fictitious skiff-cups of Saguntine bad clay),
when, in a frenzy, he recounts the pedigrees of his silver,
    garrulous, and with words he makes the wines moldy:
"These goblets belonged to Laomedon’s table:              5
    that he might carry these, Apollo built the walls with his lyre.
With this mixing-bowl the fierce Rhoctus joined battle
    with the Lapiths: you see a work weakened by the fight.
These two flasks are assessed at long-lived Nestor;
    a dove, rubbed by a Pylian thumb, shines."

              10
Hic scyphus est in quo misceri iussit amicis
    largius Aeacides uiuidiusque merum.
Hac propinauit Bitiae pulcherrima Dido
    in patera, Phrygio cum data cena uiro est."
Miratus fueris cum prisca torcumata multum,               15

              10
This is the cup in which the Aeacid ordered for his friends
    the pure wine to be mixed more generously and more spiritedly.
"With this the most beautiful Dido drank a toast to Bitias
    in a patera, when dinner was given to the Phrygian man."
You would have marveled much at the ancient chased-work,              15

in Priami calathis Astyanacta bibes.

in Priam’s calathi you will drink Astyanax.

Hoc agere est causas, hoc dicere, Cinna, diserte,
horis, Cinna, decem dicere uerba nouem?
Sed modo clepsydras ingenti uoce petisti
quattuor. O quantum, Cinna, tacere potes!

This is to plead causes, this is to speak, Cinna, eloquently,
to say, Cinna, nine words in ten hours?
But just now you demanded with a mighty voice
four clepsydras. O how much, Cinna, you can keep silent!

Principium des, Iane, licet uelocibus annis
    et renoues uoltu saecula longa tuo,
te primum pia tura rogent, te uota salutent,
    purpura te felix, te colat omnis honos;
tu tamen hoc mauis, Latiae quod contigit urbi              5
    mense tuo reducem, Iane, uidere deum.

Grant the beginning, Janus, to the swift years,
    and, although you renew long ages with your countenance,
let pious incense first implore you, let vows salute you,
    may the fortunate purple, may every honor worship you;
yet you prefer this, that it has befallen the Latin city              5
    in your month, Janus, to see the god returned.

Soluere dodrantem nuper tibi, Quinte, uolebat
lippus Hylas, luscus uult dare dimidium.
Accipe quam primum; breuis est occasio lucri:
si fuerit caecus, nil tibi soluet Hylas.

Recently bleary‑eyed Hylas wanted to pay you three quarters, Quintus—
one‑eyed, he wants to give a half.
Take it as soon as possible; the occasion for profit is brief:
if he becomes blind, Hylas will pay you nothing.

Emit lacernas milibus decem Bassus
Tyrias coloris optimi. Lucrifecit.
"Adeo bene emit?" inquis.

Bassus bought cloaks for ten thousand,
Tyrian, of the best color. He profited.
"So well did he buy?" you ask.

Immo non soluet.

Nay, he will not pay.

Peruenisse tuam iam te scit Rhenus in urbem;
    nam populi uoces audit et ille tui:
Sarmaticas etiam gentes Histrumque Getasque
    laetitiae clamor terruit ipse nouae.
Dum te longa sacro uenerantur gaudia Circo,              5
    nemo quater missos currere sensit equos.
Nullum Roma ducem, nec te sic, Caesar, amauit:
    te quoque iam non plus, ut uelit ipsa, potest.

The Rhine knows that you have now arrived in your city;
    for he too hears the voices of your people:
the Sarmatic peoples, and the Hister and the Getae,
    the shout of new joy itself has terrified.
While long joys revere you in the sacred Circus,              5
    no one perceived the horses to run, sent four times.
Rome has loved no leader—nor even you thus, Caesar:
    she now cannot love you more, even as she herself might wish.

Vxorem quare locupletem ducere nolim
quaeritis? Vxori nubere nolo meae.
Inferior matrona suo sit, Prisce, marito:
non aliter fiunt femina uirque pares.

Why do you ask why I am unwilling to wed a wealthy wife?
I do not want to play the bride to my own wife.
Let the matron be inferior to her own husband, Priscus:
only thus are woman and man made “equal.”

Morio dictus erat: uiginti milibus emi.
Redde mihi nummos, Gargiliane: sapit.

He was called “Morio”: I bought him for twenty thousand.
Give me back the money, Gargilianus: he has sense.

Pallida ne Cilicum timeant pomaria brumam,
    mordeat et tenerum fortior aura nemus,
hibernis obiecta Notis specularia puros
    admittunt soles et sine faece diem.
At mihi cella datur non tota clusa fenestra,              5
    in qua nec Boreas ipse manere uelit.
Sic habitare iubes ueterem crudelis amicum?

Lest the pale orchards of the Cilicians fear the brumal season,
    and a stronger breeze bite the tender grove,
specular panes, set against the wintry South Winds, admit pure suns
    and a day without dregs.
But for me a cell is given, not wholly shut with a window,              5
    in which not even Boreas himself would wish to stay.
Do you bid an old friend to dwell thus, cruel one?

Arboris ergo tuae tutior hospes ero.

Therefore I shall be a safer guest of your tree.

Dum noua Pannonici numeratur gloria belli,
    omnis et ad reducem dum litat ara Iouem,
dat populus, dat gratus eques, dat tura senatus,
    et ditant Latias tertia dona tribus:
hos quoque secretos memorauit Roma triumphos,              5
    nec minor ista tuae laurea pacis erat,
quod tibi de sancta credis pietate tuorum.
    Principis est uirtus maxima nosse suos.

While the new glory of the Pannonian war is being tallied,
    and while every altar sacrifices to Jupiter Redux,
the people give, the grateful equestrian order gives, the senate gives incense,
    and the third gifts enrich the Latian tribes:
Rome also commemorated these secret triumphs,              5
    nor was that laurel of your peace lesser,
because you trust in the sacred piety of your own people.
    The greatest virtue of a prince is to know his own.

Pistor qui fueras diu, Cypere,
causas nunc agis et ducena quaeris:
sed consumis et usque mutuaris.
A pistore, Cypere, non recedis:
et panem facis et facis farinam. 5

A baker you had been for a long time, Cypere,
now you plead cases and you go after two-hundreds:
but you consume and you borrow continually.
From the baker’s trade, Cypere, you do not withdraw:
you make bread and you make flour. 5

Egi, Sexte, tuam pactus duo milia causam:
misisti nummos quod mihi mille quid est?
"Narrasti nihil" inquis "et a te perdita causa est."
Tanto plus debes, Sexte, quod erubui.

I pled, Sextus, your cause, contracted for two thousand:
you sent coins—what is a mere thousand to me?
"You said nothing," you say, "and the cause was lost by you."
You owe so much the more, Sextus, because I blushed.

Si tua, Cerrini, promas epigrammata uulgo,
    uel mecum possis uel prior ipse legi:
sed tibi tantus inest ueteris respectus amici,
    carior ut mea sit quam tua fama tibi.
Sic Maro nec Calabri temptauit carmina Flacci,              5
    Pindaricos nosset cum superare modos,
et Vario cessit Romani laude cothurni,
    cum posset tragico fortius ore loqui.
Aurum et opes et rura frequens donabit amicus:
    qui uelit ingenio cedere rarus erit.               10

If you, Cerrinus, should bring forth your epigrams to the public,
    you could be read either with me or even before me:
but so great a respect of an old friend is in you,
    that my fame is dearer to you than your own.
Thus Maro did not attempt the songs of the Calabrian Flaccus,              5
    though he knew how to surpass Pindaric modes,
and he yielded to Varius in the praise of the Roman buskin,
    though he could speak more powerfully with a tragic voice.
A friend will often bestow gold and wealth and lands:
    one who is willing to yield in ingenium will be rare.               10

Pauper uideri Cinna uult; et est pauper.

Cinna wishes to seem a pauper; and he is a pauper.

Cum facias uersus nulla non luce ducenos,
Vare, nihil recitas. Non sapis, atque sapis.

Since you compose two hundred verses on every single day,
Varus, you recite nothing. You are not wise, and you are wise.

Phosphore, redde diem: quid gaudia nostra moraris?
Caesare uenturo, Phosphore, redde diem.
Roma rogat.

Phosphor, render the day: why do you delay our joys?
With Caesar coming, Phosphor, render the day.
Rome asks.

Placidi numquid te pigra Bootae
    plaustra uehunt, lento quod nimis axe uenis?
Ledaeo poteras abducere Cyllaron astro:              5
    ipse suo cedet nunc tibi Castor equo.
Quid cupidum Titana tenes?

Are the sluggish wagons of placid Boötes carrying you,    that you come with too slow an axle?
You could have led off Cyllarus from the Ledaean star:              5
    Castor himself will now yield his own horse to you.
Why do you hold back the eager Titan?

Iam Xanthus et Aethon
    frena uolunt, uigilat Memnonis alma parens.
Tarda tamen nitidae non cedunt sidera luci,
    et cupit Ausonium luna uidere ducem.              10
iam, Caesar, uel nocte ueni: stent astra licebit,
    non derit populo te ueniente dies.

Now Xanthus and Aethon
    want the reins; the kindly mother of Memnon keeps vigil.
Yet the tardy stars do not yield to the shining light,
    and the moon longs to see the Ausonian leader.              10
now, Caesar, come even by night: let the stars stand, it will be permitted,
    day will not be lacking to the people when you come.

Inuitas ad aprum, ponis mihi, Gallice, porcum.
hybrida sum, si das, Gallice, uerba mihi.

You invite me to a boar; you serve me, Gallicus, a pig.
I am a hybrid, if you give me, Gallicus, words.

Esse tibi uideor saeuus nimiumque gulosus,
qui propter cenam, Rustice, caedo cocum.
Si leuis ista tibi flagrorum causa uidetur,
ex qua uis causa uapulet ergo cocus?

Do I seem to you savage and excessively gluttonous,
that on account of dinner, Rusticus, I beat the cook.
If this seems to you a light cause for floggings,
for what cause do you want the cook to be flogged, then?

Si quid forte petam timido gracilique libello,
    inproba non fuerit si mea charta, dato.
Et si non dederis, Caesar, permitte rogari:
    offendunt numquam tura precesque Iouem.
Qui fingit sacros auro uel marmore uultus,              5
    non facit ille deos: qui rogat, ille facit.

If by chance I seek anything with a timid and slender little book,
    my paper will not have been impudent, if you grant it.
And if you do not give, Caesar, permit it to be asked:
    incense and prayers never offend Jove.
He who fashions sacred visages in gold or in marble,              5
    he does not make gods: he who prays, he makes them.

Vidisti semel, Oppiane, tantum
aegrum me: male, saepe te uidebo.

You have seen me once, Oppianus, only sick:
alas, I shall often see you.

Non tot in Eois timuit Gangeticus aruis
    raptor, in Hyrcano qui fugit albus equo,
quot tua Roma nouas uidit, Germanice, tigres;
    delicias potuit nec numerare suas.
Vincit Erythraeos tua, Caesar, harena triumphos              5
    et uictoris opes diuitiasque dei:
nam cum captiuos ageret sub curribus Indos,
    contentus gemina tigride Bacchus erat.

Not so many in the Eastern fields did the Gangetic robber fear,
    who flees in Hyrcania on a white horse,
as many new tigers as your Rome has seen, Germanicus;
    nor could it count its own delights.
Your arena, Caesar, surpasses the Erythraean triumphs              5
    and the resources and riches of the conquering god:
for when he drove captive Indians beneath his chariots,
    Bacchus was content with a pair of tigers.

Munera qui tibi dat locupleti, Gaure, senique,
si sapis et sentis, hoc tibi ait "Morere."

He who gives you gifts, Gaurus, when you are wealthy and old,
if you are wise and perceive it, says this to you: "Die."

Dic, toga, facundi gratum mihi munus amici,
    esse uelis cuius fama decusque gregis?
Apula Ledaei tibi floruit herba Phalanthi,
    qua saturat Calabris culta Galaesus aquis?
An Tartesiaeus stabuli nutritor Hiberi              5
    Baetis in Hesperia te quoque lauit oue?

Say, toga, welcome gift to me of an eloquent friend,
    would you wish to be the fame and ornament of which flock?
Did the Apulian grass of Ledaean Phalanthus bloom for you,
    which, tended, the Galaesus saturates with Calabrian waters?
Or did the Tartessian nourisher of the Iberian fold              5
    the Baetis in Hesperia wash you too from the sheep?

An tua multifidum numerauit lana Timauum,
    quem pius astrifero Cyllarus ore bibit?
te nec Amyclaeo decuit liuere ueneno
    nec Miletos erat uellere digna tuo.              10
Lilia tu uincis nec adhuc delapsa ligustra
    et Tiburtino monte quod alget ebur;
Spartanus tibi cedet olor Paphiaeque columbae,
    cedet Erythraeis eruta gemma uadis:
sed licet haec primis niuibus sint aemula dona,              15

Or has your wool measured the many-cleft Timavus,
    which pious Cyllarus drinks with his star-bearing mouth?
nor did it befit you to grow livid with Amyclaean poison,
    nor was Miletus worthy to be clad in your fleece.              10
You outdo lilies and privets not yet fallen,
    and the ivory that grows cold on the Tiburtine mountain;
the Spartan swan will yield to you, and the doves of Paphos,
    the gem dug from the Erythraean shallows will yield:
but although these gifts are rivals to the earliest snows,              15

    non sunt Parthenio candidiora suo.
Non ego praetulerim Babylonos picta superbae
    texta, Samiramia quae uariantur acu;
non Athamanteo potius me mirer in auro,
    Aeolium dones si mihi, Phrixe, pecus.              20
O quantos risus pariter spectata mouebit
    cum Palatina nostra lacerna toga!

    they are not whiter than their own Parthenius.
I would not prefer the Babylonian fabrics, painted and proud,
    those of Semiramis, which are variegated by the needle;
nor would I rather admire myself in Athamantian gold,
    if you should grant me, Phrixus, the Aeolian flock.              20
O how many laughs, when seen side by side, will be stirred
    by our lacerna-cloak with the Palatine toga!

Disticha qui scribit, puto, uult breuitate placere.
Quid prodest breuitas, dic mihi, si liber est?

He who writes distichs, I suppose, wants to please by brevity.
What good is brevity, tell me, if it is a book?

Qui nunc Caesareae lusus spectatur harenae,
    temporibus Bruti gloria summa fuit.
Aspicis ut teneat flammas poenaque fruatur
    fortis, et attonito regnet in igne manus?
Ipse sui spectator adest et nobile dextrae              5
    funus amat: totis pascitur illa sacris;
quod nisi rapta foret nolenti poena, parabat
    sacuior in lassos ire sinistra focos.

He who now is viewed as a sport of the Caesarean arena,
    in the times of Brutus was the highest glory.
Do you see how the brave hand holds the flames and enjoys the penalty,
    and how the hand rules in the thunderstruck fire?
He himself is present as spectator of himself and he loves the noble              5
    funeral of his right hand: it is nourished by the whole sacrifice;
and if the punishment had not been snatched from him unwilling, the left,
    more savage, was preparing to go to the wearied hearths.

Scire piget post tale decus quid fecerit ante:
quam uidi satis hanc est mihi nosse manum. 10

It irks me, after such glory, to know what he did before:
now that I have seen, it is enough for me to know this hand. 10

Nescio quid de te non belle, Dento, fateris,
    coniuge qui ducta iura paterna petis.
Sed iam supplicibus dominum lassare libellis
    desine et in patriam serus ab urbe redi:
nam dum tu longe deserta uxore diuque              5
    tres quaeris natos, quattuor inuenies.

I do not know, Dento, you confess something not pretty about yourself,
    you who, having led home a wife, seek paternal rights.
But now cease to weary the lord with supplicatory petitions,
    and late return from the city to your fatherland:
for while you, with your wife left far away and for a long time,              5
    are seeking three sons, you will find four.

Aera per tacitum delapsa sedentis in ipsos
    fluxit Aretullae blanda columba sinus.
Luserat hoc casus, nisi inobseruata maneret
    permissaque sibi nollet abire fuga.
Si meliora piae fas est sperare sorori              5
    et dominum mundi flectere uota ualent,
haec a Sardois tibi forsitan exulis oris,
    fratre reuersuro, nuntia uenit auis.

Having glided through the silent air, a coaxing dove flowed into the very lap of Aretulla as she sat.
    It would have been a prank of chance, had it not remained, unnoticed, and, though flight was permitted it, refused to depart.
If it is right for the pious sister to hope for better things,              5
    and if prayers avail to bend the lord of the world,
this bird perhaps comes to you as a messenger from the Sardinian shores of the exile,
    with your brother about to return.

De praetoricia folium mihi, Paule, corona
    mittis et hoc phialae nomen habere iubes.
Hac fuerat nuper nebula tibi pegma perunctum,
    pallida quam rubri diluit unda croci;
an magis astuti derasa est ungue ministri              5
    brattea, de fulcro quam reor esse tuo?
Illa potest culicem longe sentire uolantem
    et minimi pinna papilionis agi;
exiguae uolitat suspensa uapore lucernae
    et lcuiter fuso rumpitur icta mero.              10
Hoc linitur sputo lani caryota Kalendis,
    quam fert cum parco sordidus asse cliens.

From a praetorian crown, Paul, you send me a leaf,
    and you bid this to bear the name of a phial.
With this mist your pegma had lately been smeared,
    which the pale wave of red saffron washes away;
or rather has the gold-foil been scraped off by the sly attendant’s nail,              5
    foil which I suppose to be from your fulcrum?
It can feel a gnat flying far off
    and be moved by the wing of the tiniest butterfly;
it flutters, suspended by the vapor of a meager lamp,
    and, struck, is torn by wine lightly poured.              10
With this the butcher’s caryota is smeared on the Kalends,
    which a filthy client brings with a stingy as.

Lenta minus gracili crescunt colocasia filo,
plena magis nimio lilia sole cadunt;
nec uaga tam tenui discurrit aranea tela, 15

The supple colocasia grow with a less slender thread,
lilies, the fuller they are, fall the more from excessive sun;
nor does the roving spider run so thin a web, 15

    tam leue nec bombyx pendulus urget opus.
Crassior in facie uetulae stat creta Fabullae,
    crassior offensae bulla tumescit aquae;
fortior et tortos seruat uesica capillos
    et mutat Latias spuma Bataua comas.              20
hac cute Ledaeo uestitur pullus in ouo,
    talia lunata splenia fronte sedent.
Quid tibi cum phiala, ligulam cum mittere possis,
    mittere cum possis uel cocleare mihi,
(magna nimis loquimur), cocleam cum mittere possis,              25
    denique cum possis mittere, Paule, nihil?

    nor does the hanging silkworm ply so light a work.
Thicker stands the chalk on the face of the old woman Fabulla,
    thicker swells the bubble of ruffled water;
and stronger does a bladder preserve twisted locks
    and Batavian foam changes Latin tresses.              20
with such a skin the chick in the Ledaean egg is clothed,
    such crescent plasters sit upon the brow.
What have you to do with a phial-bowl, since you can send a little spoon (ligula),
    since you can send me even a cochlear-spoon,
(we speak too grand), since you can send a snail,              25
    finally, since you can send, Paul, nothing?

Archetypum Myos argentum te dicis habere.
Quod sine te factum est hoc magis archetypum est?

You say you have Myron’s archetype in silver.
What was made without you—is this all the more the archetype?

Cum sitis similes paresque uita,
uxor pessima, pessimus maritus,
miror non bene conuenire uobis.

Since you are similar and equal in life,
a worst wife, a worst husband,
I marvel that you do not agree well with each other.

Regia pyramidum, Caesar, miracula ride;
    iam tacet Eoum barbara Memphis opus:
pars quota Parrhasiae labor est Mareoticus aulae?
    clarius in toto nil uidet orbe dies.
Septenos pariter credas adsurgere montes,              5
    Thessalicum breuior Pelion Ossa tulit;
aethera sic intrat nitidis ut conditus astris
    inferiore tonet nube serenus apex
et prius arcano satietur numine Phocbi
    nascentis Circe quam uidet ora patris.              10
Haec, Auguste, tamen, quae uertice sidera pulsat,
    par domus est caelo sed minor est domino.

Laugh, Caesar, at the regal marvels of the pyramids;
    now barbarian Memphis is silent about the work of the East:
what portion is the Mareotic labor compared to the Parrhasian hall?
    the day sees nothing more illustrious in the whole world.
You would think seven mountains rising together,              5
    Ossa bore the Thessalian Pelion, a briefer load;
thus it enters the aether, as though buried among shining stars,
    the serene summit thundering while a lower cloud rumbles,
and it is first sated with the secret numen of Phoebus
    newborn, before Circe sees her father’s face.              10
This, Augustus, however, which with its vertex strikes the stars,
    is a house equal to the sky but lesser than its master.

Quod Caietano reddis, Polycharme, tabellas,
milia te centum num tribuisse putas?
"Debuit haec" inquis. Tibi habe, Polycharme, tabellas
et Caietano milia crede duo.

Because you return the tablets to Caietanus, Polycharms,
do you suppose you have bestowed 100,000?
“This one owed this,” you say. Have the tablets for yourself, Polycharms,
and credit Caietanus with 2,000.

Qui praestat pietate pertinaci
sensuro bona liberalitatis,
captet forsitan aut uicem reposcat:
at si quis dare nomini relicto
post manes tumulumque perseuerat, 5
quaerit quid nisi parcius dolere?
Refert sis bonus an uelis uideri.
Praestas hoc, Melior, sciente fama,
qui sollemnibus anxius sepulti
nomen non sinis interire Blaesi. 10
et de munifica profusus arca
ad natalicium diem colendum
scribarum memori piaeque turbae
quod donas, facis ipse Blaesianum.

He who, with pertinacious piety, bestows the goods of liberality
upon one who will feel them,
may perhaps seek or demand a return:
but if someone perseveres to give to the name left behind
after the Shades and the tomb, 5
what does he seek except to grieve more sparingly?
It matters whether you are good or wish to seem so.
You exhibit this, Melior, with fame aware,
you who, anxious for the solemnities of the buried,
do not allow the name of Blaesius to perish. 10
and, lavish from a munificent coffer,
for the natal day to be celebrated,
what you give to the mindful and pious throng of scribes,
you yourself make Blaesian.

Hoc longum tibi, uita dum manebit, 15

This will be long-lasting for you, while life shall remain, 15

hoc et post cineres erit tributum.

this too will be a tribute after the ashes.

Qui Palatinae caperet conuiuia mensae
    ambrosiasque dapes, non erat ante locus:
hic haurire decet sacrum, Germanice, nectar
    et Ganymedea pocula mixta manu.
Esse uelis, oro, serus conuiua Tonantis:              5
    at tu si properas, Iuppiter, ipse ueni.

For one who would partake of the banquets of the Palatine table
    and ambrosial feasts, there was formerly no place:
here it befits, Germanicus, to quaff the sacred nectar
    and the cups mixed by Ganymede’s hand.
Be, I pray, a late guest of the Thunderer;              5
    but you, if you hasten, Jupiter, come yourself.

Non horti neque palmitis beati
sed rari nemoris, Priape, custos,
ex quo natus es et potes renasci,
furaces, moneo, manus repellas
et siluam domini focis reserues: 5
si defecerit haec, et ipse lignum es.

Not of a garden nor of a blessed vine-shoot
but of a sparse grove, Priapus, guardian,
from which you were born and can be reborn,
drive off, I warn, thieving hands,
and reserve the master's woodland for the hearths: 5
if this runs short, you yourself are wood.

"Tristis Athenagoras non misit munera nobis
quae medio brumae mittere mense solet."
An sit Athenagoras tristis, Faustine, uidebo:
me certe tristem fecit Athenagoras.

"Sad Athenagoras has not sent us the gifts
which he is accustomed to send in the middle month of winter."
Whether Athenagoras is sad, Faustine, I shall see:
Athenagoras certainly made me sad.

Si te sportula maior ad beatos
non corruperit, ut solet, licebit
de nostro, Matho, centies laueris.

If a larger sportula has not corrupted you toward the wealthy,
as it usually does, it will be permitted
at our expense, Matho, that you bathe a hundred times.

Effert uxores Fabius, Chrestilla maritos,
funereamque toris quassat uterque facem.
Victores committe, Venus: quos iste manebit
exitus, una duos ut Libitina ferat.

Fabius carries out wives for burial, Chrestilla husbands,
and each brandishes the funereal torch over the beds.
Match the victors, Venus: whatever end awaits them,
so that Libitina may carry off the two together.

Titulle, moneo, uiue: semper hoc serum est;
sub paedagogo coeperis licet, serum est.
At tu, miser Titulle, nec senex uiuis,
sed omne limen conteris salutator
et mane sudas urbis osculis udus,              5
foroque triplici sparsus ante equos omnis
aedemque Martis et colosson Augusti
curris per omnis tertiasque quintasque.
Rape, congere, aufer, posside: relinquendum est.
Superba densis area palleat nummis,              10
centum explicentur paginae Kalendarum,
iurabit heres te nihil reliquisse,
supraque plutcum te iacente uel saxum,
fartus papyro dum tibi torus crescit,
flentes superbus basiabit eunuchos;              15

Titullus, I warn you, live: this is always too late;
even if you should begin under a pedagogue, it is too late.
But you, wretched Titullus, you do not live even as an old man,
but you wear down every threshold as a morning greeter,
and in the morning you sweat, wet with the city’s kisses, 5
and in the triple Forum, scattered before all the horses,
and at the temple of Mars and the Colossus of Augustus,
you run through them all, the thirds and the fifths.
Snatch, heap up, carry off, possess: it will have to be left behind.
Let the proud floor grow pale with dense coins, 10
let a hundred pages of the Calendars be unrolled;
the heir will swear that you have left nothing,
and, with you lying beneath, above you either a plank or a stone,
while your couch swells stuffed with papyrus,
the proud one will kiss the weeping eunuchs.

tuoque tristis filius, uelis nolis,
cum concubino nocte dormiet prima.

and your sad son, whether you will or not,
will sleep with the concubine on the first night.

Priscus ab Aetnaeis mihi, Flacce, Terentius oris
    redditur: hanc lucem lactea gemma notet;
defluat et lento splendescat turbida lino
    amphora centeno consule facta minor.
Continget nox quando meis tam candida mensis?              5
    Tam iusto dabitur quando calere mero?
Cum te, Flacce, mihi reddet Cythereia Cypros,
    luxuriae fiet tam bona causa meae.

Priscus Terentius is returned to me, Flaccus, from the Aetnaean shores
    let a milky gem mark this day;
let a turbid amphora flow out and, through slow linen, grow bright—
    made less than a hundred consuls ago.
When will so bright a night befall my tables?              5
    When will it be granted to glow with so just a pure wine?
When Cytherean Cyprus returns you, Flaccus, to me,
    so good a cause of my luxury will be made.

Quanta tua est probitas tanta est infantia formae,
    Ceste puer, puero castior Hippolyto.
Te secum Diana uelit doceatque natare,
    te Cybele totum mallet habere Phryge;
tu Ganymedeo poteras succedere lecto,              5
    sed durus domino basia sola dares.
Felix, quae tenerum uexabit sponsa maritum
    et quae te faciet prima puella uirum!

As great as your probity is, so great is the infancy of your beauty,
    Ceste, boy, chaster than the boy Hippolytus.
May Diana wish to have you with her and teach you to swim,
    Cybele would rather have you wholly in Phrygia;
you could succeed to Ganymede’s couch,              5
    but, unyielding to your master, you would give only kisses.
Happy the bride who will vex her tender husband,
    and the girl who will make you a man first!

Pars maxillarum tonsa est tibi, pars tibi rasa est,
pars uulsa est. Vnum quis putet esse caput?

Part of your cheeks is shorn, part of them is shaved,
part is plucked. Who would think it to be one head?

Nescit cui dederit Tyriam Crispinus abollam,
    dum mutat cultus induiturque togam.
Quisquis habes, umeris sua munera redde, precamur:
    non hoc Crispinus te, sed abolla rogat.
Non quicumque capit saturatas murice uestes              5
    nec nisi deliciis conuenit iste color.

Crispinus does not know to whom he has given his Tyrian abolla,
    while he changes outfits and puts on the toga.
Whoever has it, return to the shoulders its own gifts, we pray:
    it is not Crispinus who asks you this, but the abolla asks.
Not for just anyone to don garments saturated with murex              5
    nor does this color suit any save the pampered.

si te praeda iuuat foedique insania lucri,
qua possis melius fallere, sume togam.

if plunder pleases you, and the foul insanity of lucre,
assume the toga, by which you can better deceive.

[51]

Formosam sane, sed caecus diligit Asper.
plus ergo, ut res est, quam uidet Asper amat.

A beautiful woman indeed, but Asper, blind, loves.
therefore, as the matter stands, Asper loves more than he sees.

[49]

Quanta Gigantei memoratur mensa triumphi
    quantaque nox superis omnibus illa fuit,
qua bonus accubuit genitor cum plebe deorum
    et licuit Faunis poscere uina Iouem:
tanta tuas celebrant, Caesar, conuiuia laurus;              5
    exhilarant ipsos gaudia nostra deos.
Vescitur omnis eques tecum populusque patresque
    et capit ambrosias cum duce Roma dapes.
Grandia pollicitus quanto maiora dedisti!

How great a table of the Gigantean triumph is commemorated,
    and how great a night that was for all the supernal gods,
on which the good Father reclined with the plebs of the gods,
    and it was permitted to the Fauns to ask Jove for wines:
to such an extent do laurels celebrate your banquets, Caesar;              5
    our joys exhilarate the gods themselves.
Vescitur every equestrian with you, and the People and the Fathers,
    and Rome with her leader takes ambrosial feasts.
Having promised great things, how much greater have you given!

Promissa est nobis sportula, recta data est. 10

The sportula was promised to us; straightway it was given. 10

[50]

Quis labor in phiala? Docti Myos anne Myronos?
Mentoris haec manus est an, Polyclite, tua?

What workmanship in the bowl? Of skilled Mys or of Myron?
Is this the hand of Mentor or, Polyclitus, yours?

Liuescit nulla caligine fusca nec odit
    exploratores nubila massa focos.
uera minus flauo radiant electra metallo              5
    et niucum felix pustula uincit ebur.
Materiae non cedit opus: sic alligat orbem,
    plurima cum tota lampade luna nitet.

It does not turn livid with any dusky gloom, nor does a cloudy mass hate the inspectors’ hearth-fires.
    True electrum (amber) shines less than the yellow metal,              5
    and a fortunate pustule outdoes snow-white ivory.
The work does not yield to the material: thus it binds the orb,
    when the moon, with her whole lamp, shines to the utmost.

Stat caper Aeolio Thebani uellere Phrixi
    cultus: ab hoc mallet uecta fuisse soror;              10
hunc nec Cinyphius tonsor uiolauerit et tu
    ipse tua pasci uite, Lyaee, uelis.
Terga premit pecudis geminis Amor aureus alis;
    Palladius tenero lotos ab ore sonat:
sic Methymnaeo gauisus Arione delphin              15

A he-goat stands, adorned with the Aeolian fleece of Theban Phrixus;
    his sister would rather have been carried by this one;              10
not even the Cinyphian barber would violate this one, and you,
    Lyaeus, would yourself wish it to be fed on your own vine.
Golden Love with twin wings presses the back of the beast;
    the Palladian lotus-pipe sounds from the tender mouth:
thus the dolphin rejoiced in Methymnaean Arion.              15

    languida non tacitum per freta uexit onus.
Imbuat egregium digno mihi nectare munus
    non grege de domini, sed tua, Ceste, manus;
Ceste, decus mensae, misce Setina: uidetur
    ipse puer nobis, ipse sitire caper.              20
Det numerum cyathis Instanti littera Rufi:
    auctor enim tanti muneris ille mihi:
si Telethusa uenit promissaque gaudia portat,
    seruabor dominae, Rufe, triente tuo;
si dubia est, septunce trahar; si fallit amantem,              25
    ut iugulem curas, nomen utrumque bibam.

    the languid one did not carry a silent burden across the straits.
Let your hand, Cestes, imbue the excellent gift for me with worthy nectar,
    not by the master’s crew, but by your hand, Cestes;
Cestes, glory of the table, mix Setine: it seems
    the boy himself is thirsty to us, the goat himself is thirsty.              20
Let Rufus’s letter give the count to the cups for Instans:
    for he is the author of so great a favor to me.
If Telethusa comes and brings the promised joys,
    I shall be kept for my lady, Rufus, by your triens;
if she is doubtful, I shall be dragged by a septuncia; if she deceives her lover,              25
    that I may jugulate my cares, I will drink both names.

Tonsorem puerum sed arte talem
qualis nec Thalamus fuit Neronis,
Drusorum cui contigere barbae,
aequandas semel ad genas rogatus
Rufo, Caediciane, commodaui. 5
Dum iussus repetit pilos eosdem,
censura speculi manum regente,
expingitque cutem facitque longam
detonsis epaphaeresin capillis,
barbatus mihi tonsor est reuersus. 10

A boy barber, but in art such as not even Nero’s Thalamus was,
to whom the beards of the Drusi fell,—I, at Rufus’s request, Caedicianus,
to have his cheeks leveled in one pass, lent him.
While, so ordered, he repeats the same hairs,
the censure of the mirror guiding his hand,
and he scores the skin and makes a long excoriation
with the hairs shorn away,
the barber returned to me bearded. 5

[54]

Formosissima quae fuere uel sunt,
sed uilissima quae fuere uel sunt,
o quam te fieri, Catulla, uellem
formosam minus aut magis pudicam!

The most beautiful who have been or are,
but the vilest who have been or are,
oh how I would wish you, Catulla, to become
less beautiful or more modest!

[56]

Magna licet totiens tribuas, maiora daturus
dona, ducum uictor, uictor et ipse tui,
diligeris populo non propter praemia, Caesar,
te propter populus praemia, Caesar, armat.

Though you grant great things so often, about to give greater gifts, conqueror of leaders, and a victor even of yourself,
you are cherished by the people not on account of rewards, Caesar; on account of you the people, Caesar, arms itself for rewards.

[53]

Auditur quantum Massyla per auia murmur,
    innumero quotiens silua leone furit,
pallidus attonitos ad Poena mapalia pastor
    cum reuocat tauros et sine mente pecus,
tantus in Ausonia fremuit modo terror harena.              5
    Quis non esse gregem crederet? unus erat;
sed cuius tremerent ipsi quoque iura leones,
    cui diadema daret marmore picta Nomas.
O quantum per colla decus, quem sparsit honorem
    aurea lunatae, cum stetit, umbra iubae!              10
Grandia quam decuit latum uenabula pectus
    quantaque de magna gaudia morte tulit!

As far as the Massylian murmur is heard through the pathless places,
    whenever the forest rages with countless lions,
the pale shepherd, when he calls back to the Punic huts the thunderstruck bulls and the witless herd,
    so great a terror just now roared in the Ausonian arena.              5
    Who would not have believed it to be a herd? It was one;
but one at whose laws even the lions themselves would tremble,
    to whom the Nomad, painted in marble, would give a diadem.
O how much grace along the necks, what honor the golden shadow
    of the crescent mane scattered, when he stood!              10
How well great hunting-spears befitted the broad chest,
    and how great joys he bore off from the mighty death!

Vnde tuis, Libye, tam felix gloria siluis?
A Cybeles numquid uenerat ille iugo?
An magis Herculeo, Germanice, misit ab astro 15

Whence, Libya, to your forests, so happy a glory?
Had he perhaps come from Cybele’s yoke?
Or rather, did the Herculean star, Germanicus, send him from the star 15

hanc tibi uel frater uel pater ipse feram?

shall either a brother or the father himself bring this wild beast to you?

[55]

Temporibus nostris aetas cum cedat auorum
    creuerit et maior cum duce Roma suo,
ingenium sacri miraris desse Maronis
    nec quemquam tanta bella sonare tuba.
Sint Maecenates, non derunt, Flacce, Marones              5
    Vergiliumque tibi uel tua rura dabunt.
iugera perdiderat miserae uicina Cremonae
    flebat et abductas Tityrus aeger oues:
risit Tuscus eques paupertatemque malignam
    reppulit et celeri iussit abire fuga.              10
"Accipe diuitias et uatum maximus esto;
    tu licet et nostrum" dixit "Alexin ames."
Adstabat domini mensis pulcherrimus ille
    marmorea fundens nigra Falerna manu,
et libata dabat roseis carchesia labris              15

In our times, although the age yields to the forefathers,
    and Rome has grown greater with her own leader,
you marvel that the genius of sacred Maro is lacking,
    and that no one sounds such great wars on the trumpet.
Let there be Maecenases; Maros will not be lacking, Flaccus,              5
    and even your fields will give you a Vergilius.
The acres neighboring wretched Cremona had been lost,
    and ailing Tityrus wept his sheep carried off:
the Tuscan eques laughed and drove back spiteful poverty
    and ordered it to depart in swift flight.              10
“Receive riches and be greatest of bards;
    you may even,” he said, “love our Alexis.”
That most beautiful boy stood by his master’s table,
    pouring black Falernian with a marble hand,
and he handed the carchesia, once tasted, to rosy lips.              15

    quae poterant ipsum sollicitare Iouem.
Excidit attonito pinguis Galatea poetae
    Thestylis et rubras messibus usta genas:
protinus Italiam concepit et "Arma uirumque,"
    qui modo uix Culicem fleuerat ore rudi.              20
Quid Varios Marsosque loquar ditataque uatum
    nomina, magnus erit quos numerare labor?
Ergo ero Vergilius, si munera Maecenatis
    des mihi?

    which could agitate Jupiter himself.
The plump Galatea fell away from the thunderstruck poet,
    and Thestylis, her cheeks reddened, scorched by harvests:
straightway he conceived Italy and “Arms and the man,”
    he who but now had scarcely lamented the Gnat with a rude mouth.              20
Why should I speak of Varius and the Marsi and the enriched names of poets,
    for whom to enumerate will be a great labor?
Therefore shall I be Vergilius, if you give me the gifts of Maecenas
    to me?

Vergilius non ero, Marsus ero.

I will not be Vergilius, I will be Marsus.

Tres habuit dentes, pariter quos expuit omnes,
    ad tumulum Picens dum sedet ipse suum;
collegitque sinu fragmenta nouissima laxi
    oris et adgesta contumulauit humo.
Ossa licet quondam defuncti non legat heres:              5
    hoc sibi iam Picens praestitit officium.

He had three teeth, which he spat out all together,
    while Picens himself sits at his own tomb;
and he gathered in his lap the very last fragments of his slack
    mouth, and with earth brought he buried them together.
Although the heir does not collect the bones of the deceased:              5
    this duty Picens has already rendered for himself.

Cum tibi tam crassae sint, Artemidore, lacernae,
possim te Sagarim iure uocare meo.

Since your cloaks are so thick, Artemidorus,
I could by my own right call you Sagaris.

Aspicis hunc uno contentum lumine, cuius
    lippa sub adtrita fronte lacuna patet?
Ne contemne caput, nihil est furacius illo;
    non fuit Autolyci tam piperata manus.
Hunc tu conuiuam cautus seruare memento:              5
    tunc furit atque oculo luscus utroque uidet:
pocula solliciti perdunt ligulasque ministri
    et latet in tepido plurima mappa sinu;
lapsa nec a cubito subducere pallia nescit
    et tectus laenis saepe duabus abit;              10
nec dormitantem uernam fraudare lucerna
    erubuit fallax, ardeat illa licet.

Do you see this man content with one light, whose
    bleary lacuna gapes beneath a worn forehead?
Do not contemn that head: nothing is more thievish than it;
    not even Autolycus had so peppery a hand.
Remember, cautious, to keep guard over this dinner-guest:              5
    then he rages, and the one-eyed sees with both eyes:
the anxious servants lose cups and little spoons,
    and many things hide in the warm bosom of the napkin;
nor does he fail to draw away cloaks slipped from the elbow,
    and he goes off covered with two cloaks full often;              10
nor has the deceitful fellow blushed to defraud a drowsing house-slave by lamplight,
    though it burn.

Si nihil inuasit, puerum tunc arte dolosa
circuit et soleas subripit ipse suas.

If he has laid hands on nothing, then with crafty art he circles the boy
and filches his own sandals himself.

Summa Palatini poteras aequare Colossi,
si fieres breuior, Claudia, sesquipede.

You could equal the top of the Palatine Colossus,
if you were to become shorter, Claudia, by a foot and a half.

Liuet Charinus, rumpitur, furit, plorat
et quaerit altos unde pendeat ramos:
non iam quod orbe cantor et legor toto,
nec umbilicis quod decorus et cedro
spargor per omnes Roma quas tenet gentes; 5
sed quod sub urbe rus habemus aestiuum
uehimurque mulis non ut ante conductis.
Quid inprecabor, o Seuere, liuenti?
Hoc opto: mulas habeat et suburbanum.

Charinus is livid, he bursts, he rages, he weeps,
and he looks for tall branches from which to hang;
no longer because as a singer I am read through the whole orb,
nor because, adorned with umbilici and with cedar,
I am scattered through all the peoples that Rome holds; 5
but because under the city we have a summer country-place
and we are conveyed by mules, not, as before, hired ones.
What shall I imprecate, O Severus, on the livid one?
This I wish: may he have mules and a suburban villa.

Scribit in auersa Picens epigrammata charta,
et dolet auerso quod facit illa deo.

Picens writes epigrams on the reverse side of the paper,
and she grieves that she does it for an averted god.

Thestylon Aulus amat sed nec minus ardet Alexin,
forsitan et nostrum nunc Hyacinthon amat.
I nunc et dubita uates an diligat ipsos,
delicias uatum cum meus Aulus amet.

Aulus loves Thestylon, but no less he burns for Alexis,
perhaps now he even loves our Hyacinthon.
Go now and doubt, poet, whether he loves the very ones,
since my Aulus loves the darlings of poets.

Vt poscas, Clyte, munus exigasque,
uno nasceris octiens in anno
et solas, puto, tresue quattuorue
non natalicias habes Kalendas.
Sit uultus tibi leuior licebit              5
tritis litoris aridi lapillis,
sit moro coma nigrior caduco,
uineas mollitia tremente plumas
aut massam modo lactis alligati,
et talis tumor excitet papillas              10
qualis cruda uiro puella seruat,
tu nobis, Clyte, iam senex uideris:
tam multos quis enim fuisse credat
natalis Priamiue Nestorisue?
Sit tandem pudor et modus rapinis.              15

That you may ask, Clyte, for a gift and exact it,
you are born eight times in a single year
and only, I suppose, three or four
Kalends you have that are not birthday ones.
Let your face be smoother, if you please,              5
than the worn pebbles of a dry shore,
let your hair be blacker than a fallen mulberry,
outvie in softness the trembling plumes
or the mass of just-coagulated milk,
and let such a swelling raise your nipples              10
as an unripe girl keeps for a man,
you seem to us, Clyte, already an old man:
for who would believe there have been so many
birthdays of Priam or of Nestor?
Let there at last be shame and a measure to your rapines.              15

Quod si ludis adhuc semelque nasci
uno iam tibi non sat est in anno,
natum te, Clyte, nec semel putabo.

But if you are still playing, and to be born once in a single year is now not enough for you,
I will think you, Clyte, not even once born.

Hic ubi Fortunae Reducis fulgentia late
    templa nitent, felix area nuper erat:
hic stetit Arctoi formosus puluere belli
    purpureum fundens Caesar ab ore iubar;
hic lauru redimita comas et candida cultu              5
    Roma salutauit uoce manuque ducem.
Grande loci meritum testantur et altera dona:
stat sacer et domitis gentibus arcus ouat.
hic gemini currus numerant elephanta frequentem,
sufficit inmensis aureus ipse iugis.              10
Haec est digna tuis, Germanice, porta triumphis;
hos aditus urbem Martis habere decet.

Here, where the shining temples of Fortune of the Return gleam far and wide,
    the area was lately felicitous:
here stood, fair with the dust of the northern war,
    Caesar, pouring a purple radiance from his face;
here, with her hair wreathed with laurel and bright in attire,              5
    Rome greeted the leader with voice and hand.
The other gifts likewise bear witness to the great merit of the place:
a sacred arch stands and exults over peoples tamed.
here twin chariots enumerate the thronging elephant,
the golden elephant itself suffices for immense yokes.              10
This is a gate worthy of your triumphs, Germanicus;
it is fitting that the city of Mars have these approaches.

Augusto pia tura uictimasque
pro uestro date Silio, Camenae.
Bis senos iubet en redire fasces,
nato consule, nobilique uirga
uatis Castaliam domum sonare 5
rerum prima salus et una Caesar.
Gaudenti superest adhuc quod optet,
felix purpura tertiusque consul.

To Augustus offer pious incense and victims
on behalf of your Silius, Camenae.
Lo, he bids the twice-six fasces to return,
with his son as consul, and the noble wand
of the vates to make the Castalian home resound 5
Caesar, the first and sole salvation of affairs.
For the rejoicing one there still remains something to desire,
the happy purple and a third consulship.

Pompeio dederit licet senatus
et Caesar genero sacros honores, 10
quorum pacificus ter ampliauit
Ianus nomina: Silius frequentes
mauult sic numerare consulatus.

Though the senate has given to Pompey, and Caesar to his son-in-law, sacred honors, 10
whose names Janus, pacific, has thrice amplified:
Silius prefers thus to number the frequent consulships.

Horas quinque puer nondum tibi nuntiat et tu
    iam conuiua mihi, Caeciliane, uenis,
cum modo distulerint raucae uadimonia quartae
    et Floralicias lasset harena feras.
Curre, age, et inlotos reuoca, Calliste, ministros;              5
    sternantur lecti: Caeciliane, sede.
Caldam poscis aquam: nondum mihi frigida uenit;
    alget adhuc nudo clusa culina foco.

The boy has not yet announced to you five hours, and you already come to me as a dinner-guest, Caecilianus,
    when only just now the hoarse fourth-hour has deferred the bail-appointments,
and the arena wearies the Floralian beasts. Run, come, and call back the unwashed attendants, Callistus;              5
    let the couches be spread: Caecilianus, sit. You ask for hot water: the cold has not yet come to me;
    the kitchen, shut up with the hearth still bare, is still cold.

Mane ueni potius; nam cur te quinta moretur?
ut iantes, sero, Caeciliane, uenis. 10

Come rather in the morning; for why should the fifth hour detain you?
as a breakfast guest, you come late, Caeciliane. 10

Qui Corcyraei uidit pomaria regis,
    rus, Entelle, tuae praeferet ille domus.
Inuida purpureos urat ne bruma racemos
    et gelidum Bacchi munera frigus edat,
condita perspicua uiuit uindemia gemma              5
    et tegitur felix nec tamen uua latet:
femineum lucet sic per bombycina corpus,
    calculus in nitida sic numeratur aqua.
Quid non ingenio uoluit natura licere?

He who has seen the orchards of the Corcyraean king,
    will prefer the countryside of your house, Entellus.
Lest envious winter scorch the purple clusters
    and gelid cold consume the gifts of Bacchus,
the vintage, stored away, lives in a transparent gem              5
    and it is happily covered, and yet the grape does not lie hidden:
thus the feminine body shines through bombycine silk,
    thus a pebble is counted in shining water.
What has nature not wished to be permitted to ingenuity?

Autumnum sterilis ferre iubetur hiems. 10

The barren winter is ordered to bear autumn. 10

Miraris ueteres, Vacerra, solos
nec laudas nisi mortuos poetas.
Ignoscas petimus, Vacerra: tanti
non est, ut placeam tibi, perire.

You marvel at the ancients alone, Vacerra,
and you praise no poets unless they are dead.
Pardon us, we beg, Vacerra: it is not worth so much
to die, in order that I may please you.

Quanta quies placidi tantast facundia Neruae,
    sed cohibet uires ingeniumque pudor.
Cum siccare sacram largo Permessida posset
    ore, uerecundam maluit esse sitim,
Pieriam tenui frontem redimire corona              5
    contentus, famae nec dare uela suae.
Sed tamen hunc nostri scit temporis esse Tibullum,
    carmina qui docti nota Neronis habet.

As great as the calm of placid Nerva, so great is his facundity;
    but modesty restrains his powers and his genius.
Though he could dry the sacred Permessus with his copious mouth,
    he preferred that his thirst be modest;
to wreathe his brow with a slight Pierian crown,              5
    content, and not to give sails to his fame.
Yet nevertheless our age knows this man to be a Tibullus,
    who has songs known to learned Nero.

Quattuor argenti libras mihi tempore brumae
    misisti ante annos, Postumiane, decem;
speranti plures (nam stare aut crescere debent
    munera) uenerunt plusue minusue duae;
tertius et quartus multo inferiora tulerunt;              5
    libra fuit quinto Septiciana quidem;
besalem ad scutulam sexto peruenimus anno;
    Post hunc in cotula rasa selibra data est;
octauus ligulam misit sextante minorem;
    nonus acu leuius uix cocleare tulit.              10
Quod mittat nobis decumus iam non habet annus:
    quattuor ad libras, Postumiane, redi.

Four pounds of silver you sent me in the season of midwinter,
    Postumianus, ten years ago; hoping for more (for gifts ought to stand fast or to increase),
there came—more or less—two; the third and the fourth brought much inferior things;              5
    in the fifth there was indeed a pound, but a “Septiciana”;
by the sixth year we reached a besal measure fit for a little saucer;
    after this, in a scraped little cup a half‑pound was given;
the eighth sent a little spoon (ligula) smaller by a sextans;
    the ninth scarcely brought a spoon (cocleare) lighter than a needle.              10
What the tenth year might send us it now does not have:
    back to four pounds, Postumianus, return.

Nondum murice cultus asperoque
morsu pumicis aridi politus
Arcanum properas sequi, libelle,
quem pulcherrima iam redire Narbo,
docti Narbo Paterna Votieni, 5
ad leges iubet annuosque fasces:
uotis quod paribus tibi petendum est,
continget locus ille et hic amicus.
Quam uellem fieri meus libellus!

Not yet adorned with purple dye nor polished by the rough
bite of dry pumice, you hasten to follow Arcanus, little book,
whom most beautiful Narbo, learned Narbo of Votienus Paternus,
now bids to return to the laws and the annual fasces: 5
what must be sought by you with equal vows—both that place will fall to him,
and here a friend. How I wish I might become my little book!

Instanti, quo nec sincerior alter habetur
    pectore nec niuea simplicitate prior,
si dare uis nostrae uires animosque Thaliae
    et uictura petis carmina, da quod amem.
Cynthia te uatem fecit, lasciue Properti;              5
    ingenium Galli pulchra Lycoris erat;
fama est arguti Nemesis formosa Tibulli;
    Lesbia dictauit, docte Catulle, tibi:
non me Paeligni nec spernet Mantua uatem,
    si qua Corinna mihi, si quis Alexis erit.              10

To Instantius, than whom no other is held more sincere,
    in heart, nor superior in snow-white simplicity,
if you wish to give strength and spirit to our Thalia
    and you seek songs that will live, give me something to love.
Cynthia made you a vates, wanton Propertius;              5
    the fair Lycoris was the genius of Gallus;
rumor has it, beautiful Nemesis was the love of witty Tibullus;
    Lesbia dictated to you, learned Catullus:
neither the Paeligni nor Mantua will spurn me as a poet,
    if there shall be some Corinna for me, if there shall be some Alexis.              10

Oplomachus nunc es, fueras opthalmicus ante.
Fecisti medicus quod facis oplomachus.

You are now a hoplomachus; before, you were an ophthalmologist.
As a physician you did what you do as a hoplomachus.

Dum repetit sera conductos nocte penates
    Lingonus a Tecta Flaminiaque recens,
expulit offenso uitiatum pollice talum
    et iacuit toto corpore fusus humi.
Quid faceret Gallus, qua se ratione moueret?              5
    ingenti domino seruulus unus erat,
tam macer ut minimam posset uix ferre lacernam:
    succurrit misero casus opemque tulit.
Quattuor inscripti portabant uile cadauer,
    accipit infelix qualia mille rogus;              10
hos comes inualidus summissa uoce precatur,
    ut quocumque uelint corpus inane ferant:
permutatur onus stipataque tollitur alte
    grandis in angusta sarcina sandapila.

While he was returning late at night to his rented household,
    Lingonus, fresh from the Tecta and the Flaminia,
having stubbed his big toe he dislocated his sprained ankle,
    and lay spread full-length on the ground.
What was the Gaul to do, by what plan could he move himself?              5
    For the huge master there was a single little slave,
so lean that he could scarcely carry the very smallest cloak:
    chance came to the poor wretch and brought help.
Four branded men were carrying a cheap corpse,
    such as the unlucky pyre receives by the thousand;              10
him their feeble companion begs in a lowered voice,
    to carry the empty body wherever they please:
the load is exchanged, and, tightly packed, he is lifted on high—
    a great bulk on a narrow sandapila-bier.

Hic mihi de multis unus, Lucane, uidetur 15

Here to me, out of many, one, Lucan, seems 15

cui merito dici "mortue Galle" potest.

to whom “dead Gallus” can deservedly be said.

"Dic uerum mihi, Marce, dic, amabo;
nil est quod magis audiam libenter."
Sic et cum recitas tuos libellos,
et causam quotiens agis clientis,
oras, Gallice, me rogasque semper. 5
Durum est me tibi quod petis negare.
Vero uerius ergo quid sit audi:
uerum, Gallice, non libenter audis.

"Tell me the truth, Marcus, tell me, please;
there is nothing I would more gladly hear."
Thus too whenever you recite your little books,
and as often as you plead your client’s cause,
you entreat, Gallicus, and you ask me always. 5
It is hard for me to deny you what you ask.
Therefore hear what is truer than true:
the truth, Gallicus, you do not gladly hear.

Liber, amicorum dulcissima cura tuorum,
    Liber, in aeterna uiuere digne rosa,
si sapis, Assyrio semper tibi crinis amomo
    splendeat et cingant florea serta caput;
candida nigrescant uetulo crystalla Falerno              5
    et caleat blando mollis amore torus.
Qui sic uel medio finitus uixit in aeuo,
    longior huic facta est quam data uita fuit.

Book, the sweetest care of your friends,
    Book, worthy to live in the eternal rose,
if you are wise, let your hair always shine with Assyrian amomum,
    and let flowery garlands gird your head;
let the bright crystals grow black with aged Falernian,              5
    and let the soft couch be warm with charming love.
He who has thus lived, even if ended in mid‑age,
    for him life has been made longer than the life that was given.

Quos cuperet Phlegraea suos uictoria ludos,
Indica quos cuperet pompa, Lyaee, tuos,
fecit Hyperborei celebrator Stella triumphi,
o pudor! o pietas! et putat esse parum.

Games which the Phlegraean victory would desire as its own,
which the Indian pomp, Lyaeus, would desire as yours,
Stella, the celebrator of the Hyperborean triumph, has made them—
O shame! O piety!—and he deems it too little.

Non illi satis est turbato sordidus auro              5
    Hermus et Hesperio qui sonat orbe Tagus.
Omnis habet sua dona dies: nec linea diues
    cessat et in populum multa rapina cadit;
nunc ueniunt subitis lasciua nomismata nimbis,
    nunc dat spectatas tessera larga feras,              10
nunc implere sinus securos gaudet et absens
    sortitur dominos, ne laceretur, auis.
Quid numerem currus ter denaque praemia palmae,
    quae dare non semper consul uterque solet?

It is not enough for him, the Hermus sordid with stirred-up gold,              5
    and the Tagus which sounds through the Hesperian world.
Every day has its own gifts: nor does rich linen
    cease, and much rapine falls upon the people;
now playful coins come in sudden clouds,
    now the generous tessera grants beasts for spectacle,              10
now he rejoices to fill bosoms secure, and even absent
    the bird allots owners, lest it be torn to pieces.
Why should I count the chariots and the thrice-ten prizes of the palm,
    which not even both consuls are accustomed always to give?

Omnia sed, Caesar, tanto superantur honore, 15

But all things, Caesar, are surpassed by so great an honor, 15

quod spectatorem te tua laurus habet.

that your laurel has you as spectator.

Omnes aut uetulas habes amicas
aut turpis uetulisque foediores.
Has ducis comites trahisque tecum
per conuiuia porticus theatra.
Sic formosa, Fabulla, sic puella es. 5

All your girlfriends are old women
or ugly and fouler than old women.
These you take as companions and drag with you
through banquets, porticoes, theaters.
Thus, Fabulla, thus you are beautiful, thus a girl you are. 5

Sanctorum nobis miracula reddis auorum
    nec pateris, Caesar, saecula cana mori,
cum ueteres Latiae ritus renouantur harenae
    et pugnat uirtus simpliciore manu.
Sic priscis seruatur honos te praeside templis              5
    et casa tam culto sub Ioue numen habet;
sic noua dum condis, reuocas, Auguste, priora:
    debentur quae sunt quaeque fuere tibi.

You restore to us the miracles of our holy ancestors
    and you do not allow, Caesar, the hoary ages to die,
when the ancient rites of the Latin arena are renewed
    and virtue fights with a simpler hand.
Thus honor is kept for the ancient temples with you presiding              5
    and even a hut possesses a numen beneath so honored a Jove;
thus, while you found new things, you recall, Augustus, the former:
    what things are and what things were are owed to you.

Non per mystica sacra Dindymenes
nec per Niliacae bouem iuuencae,
nullos denique per deos deasque
iurat Gellia, sed per uniones.
Hos amplectitur, hos perosculatur, 5
hos fratres uocat, hos uocat sorores,
hos natis amat acrius duobus.
His si quo careat misella casu,
uicturam negat esse se nec horam.

Not by the mystic sacred rites of Dindymene
nor by the bull of the Nilotic heifer,
by no gods and goddesses, finally,
does Gellia swear, but by pearls.
These she embraces, these she kisses all over, 5
these she calls brothers, these she calls sisters,
these she loves more keenly than her two children.
If by any mischance the poor little thing is without these,
she says she will not live even an hour.

Eheu, quam bene nunc, Papiriane, 10
Annaei faceret manus Sereni!

Alas, how well now, Papirianus, 10
the hand of Annaeus Serenus would do!

Dante tibi turba querulos, Auguste, libellos
    nos quoque quod domino carmina parua damus,
posse deum rebus pariter Musisque uacare
    scimus et haec etiam serta placere tibi.
Fer uates, Auguste, tuos: nos gloria dulcis,              5
    nos tua cura prior deliciaeque sumus.
Non quercus te sola decet nec laurea Phoebi:
    fiat et ex hedera ciuica nostra tibi.

While the crowd hands to you querulous libelli, Augustus,
    so we too, in that we offer small songs to the lord,
we know that a god can be at leisure for affairs and for the Muses alike,
    and that even these garlands too are pleasing to you.
Receive your vates, Augustus: we are your sweet glory,              5
    we are your earlier concern and your delights.
Not the oak alone befits you, nor the laurel of Phoebus:
    let there also be made for you a civic crown from our ivy.