50 (Catullus)

Hesterno, Licini, die otiosi
multum lusimus in meis tabellis,
ut convenerat esse delicatos:
scribens versiculos uterque nostrum
ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc,
reddens mutua per iocum atque vinum.
Atque illinc abii tuo lepore
incensus, Licini, facetiisque,
ut nec me miserum cibus iuvaret
nec somnus tegeret quiete ocellos,
sed toto indomitus furore lecto
versarer, cupiens videre lucem,
ut tecum loquerer simulque ut essem.
At defessa labore membra postquam
semimortua lectulo iacebant,
hoc, iucunde, tibi poema feci,
ex quo perspiceres meum dolorem.
Nunc audax cave sis, precesque nostras,
oramus, cave despuas, ocelle,
ne poenas Nemesis reposcat a te.
Est vemens dea: laedere hanc caveto.


Licinius, we were idle yesterday
and played around a good deal in my notebook,
since we'd agreed that we'd be hedonists.
So each of us was playing, writing verses,
just ditties in this meter and in that one,
taking our turns in merriment and wine.
I went away so fired up by this,
Licinius, by your charm and wittiness,
my wretched self found food no consolation
and sleep could lay no quiet on my eyes,
but frenzied, driven wild, I rolled all over
the bed and longed to see the next day's light
so I could talk to you and be with you.
But when my limbs were tired from all this effort
and lay half-dead, exhausted on my bed,
I wrote this for you, my delightful friend,
so that you'd understand my suffering.
Now careful not to be too bold, and don't,
I beg you, darling, scoff at my entreaties,
or Nemesis will make you pay for it.
She's a harsh goddess: cross her at your peril.