76 (Catullus)

Siqua recordanti benefacta priora voluptas 
    est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium, 
nec sanctam violasse fidem, nec foedere nullo 
    divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines, 
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle, 
    ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi. 
nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt 
    aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt. 
omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti. 
    quare iam te cur amplius excrucies? 
quin tu animo offirmas atque istinc teque reducis, 
    et dis invitis desinis esse miser? 
difficile est longum subito deponere amorem, 
    difficile est, verum hoc qua lubet efficias: 
una salus haec est. hoc est tibi pervincendum, 
    hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote. 
o di, si vestrum est misereri, aut si quibus umquam 
    extremam iam ipsa in morte tulistis opem, 
me miserum aspicite et, si vitam puriter egi, 
    eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi, 
quae mihi subrepens imos ut torpor in artus 
    expulit ex omni pectore laetitias. 
non iam illud quaero, contra me ut diligat illa, 
    aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit: 
ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum. 
    o di, reddite mi hoc pro pietate mea.


If a man takes delight in recollecting past
    good deeds, when he reflects that he is faithful,
And has betrayed no holy trust, nor has abused
    the gods in sacred pacts to cheat a mortal,
Then many joys remain in your long life, Catullus,
    stored up for you from this, your thankless love.
For anything that men can say or do that's good
    for someone else, all this you've said and done;
And all of this is lost, pledged to a thankless mind.
    Why, then, should you now torture yourself further?
Why not shore up your spirit, tear yourself away,
    and, since the gods don't wish it, don't be wretched?
It's hard to quickly do away with lasting love;
    it's hard, but still somehow you must achieve this.
This is your one salvation, you must conquer this,
    you must do this, impossible or not.
O gods, if you can pity, or if ever you
    have helped men in the throes of death itself,
Look on my wretchedness, and if I have lived purely,
    relieve me of this plague and pestilence!
It worms its way into my limbs, a deadly languor,
    and from my heart it drives out happiness.
I do not ask that she should love me in return,
    or should (impossible!) wish to be chaste,
But that I may be strong and cast off this disease.
    O gods, I have been faithful—grant me this.

30 (Catullus)

Alfene immemor atque unanimis false sodalibus,
iam te nil miseret, dure, tui dulcis amiculi?
iam me prodere, iam non dubitas fallere, perfide?
nec facta impia fallacum hominum caelicolis placent.
quae tu neglegis, ac me miserum deseris in malis;
eheu quid faciant, dic, homines cuive habeant fidem?
certe tute iubebas animam tradere, inique, me
inducens in amorem, quasi tuta omnia mi forent.
idem nunc retrahis te ac tua dicta omnia factaque
ventos irrita ferre ac nebulas aereas sinis.
si tu oblitus es, at di meminerunt, meminit Fides,
quae te ut paeniteat postmodo facti faciet tui.

Alfenus, heedless, false to your concordant fellows,
Oh, have you now no pity, monster, for your sweet friend?
Now you don’t stick at betraying and cheating me, you traitor?
The disloyal acts of deceitful men don’t please the gods.
These truths you disregard and leave me in wretched straits;
Tell me, what should men do, or wherein put their trust?
You wretch, you ordered me to give my soul to you,
And led me into love, as if all were safe for me.
And now you withdraw yourself and let all you said and did,
Worthless, blow with the winds and through the airy clouds.
Maybe you’ve forgotten, but the gods and Faith have not,
And they’ll make sure you pay for your bad deed in the end.

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.

101 (Catullus)

Multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus
advenio has miseras, frater, ad inferias,
ut te postremo donarem munere mortis
et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem.
Quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum.
Heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi,
nunc tamen interea haec, prisco quae more parentum
tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias,
accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu,
atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.

Borne across many lands and many seas,
I come to your pyre alone,
Brother, to give you death’s last gift, and speak
To silent ash and bone.
For fate has taken you away unjustly,
Poor brother, lost to me!
Yet since it is the custom of our fathers
To make this obsequy,
Let me do my sad duty to your grave;
Accept these gifts that I
Wash with a brother’s tears; and then forever
Hail, brother, and—goodbye.

16 (Catullus)

Put under a cut for obscenity. Catullus was very...effective with his invective.