martialis

update

2005-04-22T17:55:00.000+01:00

I promise I really will get up to date in the next few days!

There are a bunch more obscenity-filled ones to finish off Book 3, then I'll take a break from the numerical sequence of books and do the de spectaculis before continuing with Book 4. The plan then will be to get to Book 6, put in the Xenia (="Book 13"), continue to Book 9, then do the Apophoreta (="Book 14") before finishing off up to Book 12.

The three Books I'm interpolating into the order are in fact M's first (even though 13 and 14 are numbered as though they came after the others!). Splitting them up like this should hopefully break things up a bit, and also ensure that we actually end with M's last published poems.

2005-03-30T21:52:00.000+01:00

A temporary break, I'm afraid.
Back in a few days - don't go away!

The temporary break has been a little longer than a few days! To get things going again, I'm going to miss out the very long III.58 and fill it in some time next week, when I should have some spare time.

Thanks for your comments. Normal service will be resumed shortly!

III.76

2005-03-19T00:00:00.000Z

arrigis ad uetulas, fastidis, Basse, puellas,
nec formosa tibi, sed moritura placet.
hic, rogo, non furor est, non haec est mentula demens?
cum possis Hecaben, non potes Andromachen.

You get it up for old women, Bassus; you loathe girls. You don't enjoy what's pretty but what's at death's door. I ask you, is this not a madness, is this not a demented dick? Whilst you can do a Hecabe, you can't do an Andromache.

III.75

2005-03-18T00:00:00.000Z

stare, Luperce, tibi iam pridem mentula desit,
  luctaris demens tu tamen arrigere.
sed nihil erucae faciunt bulbique salaces,
  improba nec prosunt iam satureia tibi.
coepisti puras opibus corrumpere buccas:
  sic quoque non uiuit sollicitata Venus.
mirari satis hoc quisquam uel credere possit,
  quod non stat, magno stare, Luperce, tibi?

For some time now, Lupercus, your cock has stopped standing; but you, madman, struggle to arise. Yet worts and lecherous bulbs achieve nothing, nor is naughty savory any good to you now. You have begun to corrupt pure mouths with money; even thus your agitated Venus does not live. Could anyone marvel enough at this or believe it - what doesn't stand costs you a lot, Lupercus?

III.74

2005-03-17T00:00:00.000Z

psilothro faciem leuas et dropace caluam:
  numquid tonsorem, Gargiliane, times?
quid facient ungues? nam certe non potes illos
  resina Veneto nec resecare luto.
desine, si pudor est, miseram traducere caluam:
  hoc fieri cunno, Gargiliane, solet.

You smoothe your face with psilothron and your bald scalp with dropax. Are you scared, Gargilianus, of the barber? What happens with your nails? For surely you can't cut them with resin or Venetian clay. Desist, if you have any shame, from displaying your wretched bald scalp: this, Gargilianus, is what usually happens with a cunt.

III.73

2005-03-16T12:00:00.000Z

  dormis cum pueris mutuniatis,
  et non stat tibi, Phoebe, quod stat illis.
  quid uis me, rogo, Phoebe, suspicari?
  mollem credere te uirum uolebam,
  sed rumor negat esse te cinaedum.

You sleep with well-endowed boys, Phoebus, and the thing which stands for them does not stand for you. What, I ask, do you want me to suspect, Phoebus? I wanted to believe you were an effeminate man, but rumour says you're not a queen.

III.72

2005-03-15T00:00:00.000Z

uis futui nec uis mecum, Saufeia, lauari:
  nescio quod magnum suspicor esse nefas.
aut tibi pannosae dependent pectore mammae
  aut sulcos uteri prodere nuda times
aut infinito lacerum patet inguen hiatu
  aut aliquid cunni prominet ore tui.
sed nihil est horum, credo, pulcherrima nuda es.
  si uerum est, uitium peius habes: fatua es.

You want to be fucked, Saufeia, but you don't want to have a bath with me. I suspect that there's something extremely dreadful: either your breasts hang down ragged from your chest, or you fear that when you are nude you might betray the furrows of your belly, or your mangled groin gapes open with an infinite chasm, or something sticks out from the mouth of your cunt. But, I trust, there's none of these things and you're very beautiful naked. If that's true, you have a worse blemish: you're a fool.

III.71

2005-03-14T00:00:00.000Z

mentula cum doleat puero, tibi, Naeuole, culus,
non sum diuinus, sed scio quid facias.

The boy's cock is hurting him; your arse is hurting you, Naevolus. I'm not a diviner, but I know what you're doing.

III.70

2005-03-13T00:00:00.000Z

moechus es Aufidiae, qui uir, Scaeuine, fuisti;
riualis fuerat qui tuus, ille uir est.
cur aliena placet tibi, quae tua non placet, uxor?
numquid securus non potes arrigere?

You are Aufidia's adulterer, Scaevinus, you who were once her husband; the man who was your rival is her husband. Why do you fancy, when she's someone else's wife, a woman who you don't fancy when she's yours? Can't you get it up if you've nothing to worry about?

III.69

2005-03-12T12:00:00.000Z

omnia quod scribis castis epigrammata uerbis
  inque tuis nulla est mentula carminibus,
admiror, laudo; nihil est te sanctius uno:
  at mea luxuria pagina nulla uacat.
haec igitur nequam iuuenes facilesque puellae,
  haec senior, sed quem torquet amica, legat.
at tua, Cosconi, uenerandaque sanctaque uerba
  a pueris debent uirginibusque legi.

Because you write all your epigrams with chaste words and there is no cock in your poems, I admire and praise you: there is nothing at all more virtuous than you. But no page of mine is free from dissipation. So let good-for-nothing youths and easy girls read these things, and an older man too, but not one whom a girlfriend is tormenting. But as for your respectable and virtuous words, Cosconius, they ought to be read by boys and maidens.

III.68

2005-03-11T00:00:00.000Z

huc est usque tibi scriptus, matrona, libellus.
  cui sint scripta rogas interiora? mihi.
gymnasium, thermae, stadium est hac parte: recede.
  exuimur: nudos parce uidere uiros.
hinc iam deposito post uina rosasque pudore,
  quid dicat nescit saucia Terpsichore;
schemate nec dubio, sed aperte nominat illam
  quam recipit sexto mense superba Venus,
custodem medio statuit quam uilicus horto,
  opposita spectat quam proba uirgo manu.
si bene te noui, longum iam lassa libellum
  ponebas, totum nunc studiosa leges.

Up to here, matron, this little book has been written for you. For whom, you ask, are the innard parts written? For me. Gymnasium, baths and racetrack are in this part: withdraw. We are undressing: keep yourself from seeing naked men. From now on love-struck Terpsichore, her modesty put aside after the wine and roses, does not know what she is saying, and without ambiguous way of speaking but openly does she name that thing which proud Venus receives in the sixth month - which the bailiff sets up as a guardian in the middle of the garden and which a virtuous maiden views with her hand interposed. If I know you well, you were already tired of the long little book and were putting it down; now you will read the whole thing diligently.

III.67

2005-03-10T00:00:00.000Z

  cessatis, pueri, nihilque nostis,
  Vaterno Rasinaque pigriores,
  quorum per uada tarda nauigantes
  lentos tinguitis ad celeuma remos.
  iam prono Phaethonte sudat Aethon
  exarsitque dies et hora lassos
  interiungit equos meridiana:
  at uos tam placidas uagi per undas
  tuta luditis otium carina.
  non nautas puto uos, sed Argonautas.

You're slacking, boys, and you've taken no notice of anything; you're more lazy than the Vaternus or Rasina as you sail through their sluggish shallows and moisten your slow oars in time with the call. Already Phaethon is descending and Aethon is sweating; day is ablaze and the midday hour is unyoking tired horses. But as you wander through such placid waters you play at leisure on a safe keel. I consider you not sailors but 'Argo'-nauts.

III.66

2005-03-09T00:00:00.000Z

par scelus admisit Phariis Antonius armis:
  abscidit uultus ensis uterque sacros.
illud, laurigeros ageres cum laeta triumphos,
  hoc tibi, Roma, caput, cum loquereris, erat.
Antoni tamen est peior quam causa Pothini:
  hic facinus domino praestitit, ille sibi.

Antony committed a crime equal to the weapon of Pharos: each sword cut off a sacred head. The one was yours, Rome, when you were gladly celebrating laurel-crowned triumphs, the other when you spoke. But the case of Antony is worse than that of Pothinus: the latter performed the deed for a master, the former for himself.

III.65

2005-03-08T00:00:00.000Z

quod spirat tenera malum mordente puella,
  quod de Corycio quae uenit aura croco;
uinea quod primis cum floret cana racemis,
  gramina quod redolent, quae modo carpsit ouis;
quod myrtus, quod messor Arabs, quod sucina trita,
  pallidus Eoo ture quod ignis olet;
gleba quod aestiuo leuiter cum spargitur imbre,
  quod madidas nardo passa corona comas:
hoc tua, saeue puer Diadumene, basia fragrant.
  quid si tota dares illa sine inuidia?

The scent of an apple as a tender girl bites it; the smell which comes from a Corycian saffron; a silvery vineyard blooming with its first clusters; the odour of grasses which a sheep has just grazed; the perfume of myrtle; of an Arabian harvester; of rubbed amber; of a fire pale with Eastern incense; of turf when it has been lightly sprinkled with summer rain; of a garland which has been laid on hair moist with nard - this, cruel boy Diadumenus, is the fragrance of your kisses. What if you were to give them in full, ungrudgingly?

III.64

2005-03-07T00:00:00.000Z

  Sirenas hilarem nauigantium poenam
  blandasque mortes gaudiumque crudele,
  quas nemo quondam deserebat auditas,
  fallax Vlixes dicitur reliquisse.
  non miror: illud, Cassiane, mirarer,
  si fabulantem Canium reliquisset.

The Sirens - blithe hardship of seafarers, their beguiling deaths and cruel gladness - whom no one has ever deserted after hearing them: these is deceitful Ulysses said to have left. I'm not surprised: but I should be surprised, Cassianus, if he had left Canius telling his stories.

III.63

2005-03-06T00:00:00.000Z

Cotile, bellus homo es: dicunt hoc, Cotile, multi.
  audio: sed quid sit, dic mihi, bellus homo.
'bellus homo est, flexos qui digerit ordine crines,
  balsama qui semper, cinnama semper olet;
cantica qui Nili, qui Gaditana susurrat,
  qui mouet in uarios bracchia uulsa modos;
inter femineas tota qui luce cathedras
  desidet atque aliqua semper in aure sonat;
qui legit hinc illinc missas scribitque tabellas;
  pallia uicini qui refugit cubiti;
qui scit quam quis amet, qui per conuiuia currit,
  Hirpini ueteres qui bene nouit auos.'
quid narras? hoc est, hoc est homo, Cotile, bellus?
  res pertricosa est, Cotile, bellus homo.

Cotilus, you're a pretty chap: many people say this, Cotilus. I hear them; but what, tell me, is a pretty chap? 'A pretty chap is one who arranges his curled hair properly, who always smells of balsam, always smells of cinnamon; who hums songs from the Nile, songs from Gades; who moves his plucked arms to various rhythms; who sits among the ladies' chairs all day long and is always speaking in some ear; who reads letters sent from here and there, and writes them; who shrinks from the coat on his neighbour's elbow; who knows who loves whom; who runs between dinner-parties; who thoroughly knows the ancient ancestors of Hirpinus.' What are you saying? Is this - this - a pretty chap, Cotilus? A pretty chap, Cotilus, is a very perplexing thing.

III.62

2005-03-05T12:00:00.000Z

centenis quod emis pueros et saepe ducenis,
  quod sub rege Numa condita uina bibis,
quod constat decies tibi non spatiosa supellex,
  libra quod argenti milia quinque rapit,
aurea quod fundi pretio carruca paratur,
  quod pluris mula est quam domus empta tibi:
haec animo credis magno te, Quinte, parare?
  falleris: haec animus, Quinte, pusillus emit.

You buy boys at a hundred thousand each, and often at two hundred thousand; you drink wine that was stored away under king Numa; your furniture, though not very ample, costs you a million; a pound of silver snatches five thousand; you obtain a golden carriage for the price of a farm; your mule has been bought for more than a house. Do you think, Quintus, that you get hold of these things because of your high-mindedness? You're deceived: It is a petty mind, Quintus, which buys these things.

III.61

2005-03-04T00:00:00.000Z

esse nihil dicis quidquid petis, improbe Cinna:
si nil, Cinna, petis, nil tibi, Cinna, nego.

You say that whatever you're asking for is nothing, impudent Cinna: if you're asking for nothing, Cinna, I'm refusing you nothing.

III.60

2005-03-03T00:00:00.000Z

cum uocer ad cenam non iam uenalis ut ante,
  cur mihi non eadem quae tibi cena datur?
ostrea tu sumis stagno saturata Lucrino,
  sugitur inciso mitulus ore mihi:
sunt tibi boleti, fungos ego sumo suillos;
  res tibi cum rhombo est, at mihi cum sparulo.
aureus immodicis turtur te clunibus implet,
  ponitur in cauea mortua pica mihi.
cur sine te ceno cum tecum, Pontice, cenem?
  sportula quod non est prosit: edamus idem.

Since I'm no longer invited to dinner for a price as I was before, why isn't the same dinner given to me as to you? You take oysters sated in the Lucrine lake; I suck at a mussel that's cut my mouth. You have mushrooms; I take pig-fungi. You concern yourself with the turbot; but I with the bream. A golden turtle-dove fills you with its oversized rump; a magpie that died in its cage is put in front of me. Why do I dine without you, Ponticus, when I dine with you? The non-existence of the dole should do some good: let's eat the same thing.

III.59

2005-03-02T00:00:00.000Z

sutor Cerdo dedit tibi, culta Bononia, munus,
fullo dedit Mutinae: nunc ubi copo dabit?

The cobbler Cerdo gave you a show, cultured Bononia; a fuller gave Mutina one. Now where will the innkeeper give one?

III.57

2005-02-28T00:00:00.000Z

callidus imposuit nuper mihi copo Rauennae:
cum peterem mixtum, uendidit ille merum.

A sly innkeeper put one over on me the other day in Ravenna. When I asked for diluted wine, he sold it to me neat.

III.56

2005-02-27T00:00:00.000Z

sit cisterna mihi quam uinea malo Rauennae,
cum possim multo uendere pluris aquam.

I'd prefer to have a cistern at Ravenna rather than a vineyard, since I'd be able to sell water for a much better price.

III.55

2005-02-26T00:00:00.000Z

quod quacumque uenis Cosmum migrare putamus
et fluere excusso cinnama fusa uitro,
nolo peregrinis placeas tibi, Gellia, nugis.
scis, puto, posse meum sic bene olere canem.

Wherever you turn up we think that Cosmus is moving and that a stream of cinnamon has been poured out from a jolted phial. But I don't want you to be contented with foreign stuff, Gellia. You know, I suppose, that my dog can smell good in just the same way.

III.54

2005-02-25T00:00:00.000Z

cum dare non possim quod poscis, Galla, rogantem,
multo simplicius, Galla, negare potes.

Since I can't give you the amount you demand when I ask you, Galla, it would be much simpler, Galla, if you could just say no.

III.53

2005-02-24T00:00:00.000Z

  et uultu poteram tuo carere
  et collo manibusque cruribusque
  et mammis natibusque clunibusque,
  et - ne singula persequi laborem,
  tota te poteram, Chloe, carere.

I could do without your face and neck and hands and legs and breasts and buttocks and haunches and - so as not to trouble myself with going right through the details, I could do without the whole of you, Chloe.

III.52

2005-02-23T00:00:00.000Z

empta domus fuerat tibi, Tongiliane, ducentis:
abstulit hanc nimium casus in urbe frequens.
collatum est deciens. rogo, non potes ipse uideri
incendisse tuam, Tongiliane, domum?

You'd bought a house, Tongilianus, for two hundred thousand. An accident - all too common in the city - stole it from you. A million was contributed. I ask you, might it not look as though you, Tongilianus, set fire to your own house?

III.51

2005-02-22T00:00:00.000Z

cum faciem laudo, cum miror crura manusque,
dicere, Galla, soles 'nuda placebo magis',
et semper uitas communia balnea nobis.
numquid, Galla, times ne tibi non placeam?

When I praise your face, when I admire your legs and hands, Galla, it's your habit to say, 'I'll please you more in the nude'; and yet you always avoid having a bath together with me. Are you afraid, Galla, that I might not please you?

III.50

2005-02-21T00:00:00.000Z

haec tibi, non alia, est ad cenam causa uocandi,
  uersiculos recites ut, Ligurine, tuos.
deposui soleas, affertur protinus ingens
  inter lactucas oxygarumque liber:
alter perlegitur, dum fercula prima morantur:
  tertius est, nec adhuc mensa secunda uenit:
et quartum recitas et quintum denique librum.
  putidus est, totiens si mihi ponis aprum.
quod si non scombris scelerata poemata donas,
  cenabis solus iam, Ligurine, domi.

This is your reason - no other - for inviting me to dinner: so that you can recite your little verses, Ligurinus. I've taken off my sandals; at once a huge book is brought forward, amid the lettuces and sharp fish-sauce. Another is read through while the first course is loitering. There's a third, and the second course hasn't come yet. And you recite a fourth, and finally a fifth book. It stinks if you serve me boar this often. If you don't give your wretched poems to the mackerel, you will soon be dining alone, Ligurinus, at home.

III.49

2005-02-20T00:00:00.000Z

Veientana mihi misces, ubi Massica potas:
olfacere haec malo pocula quam bibere.

You mix Veientan for me, while you drink Massic. I prefer to smell these latter cups rather than drink.

III.48

2005-02-19T00:00:00.000Z

pauperis extruxit cellam, sed uendidit Olus
praedia: nunc cellam pauperis Olus habet.

Olus built a 'pauper's cell', but sold his estate. Now Olus has a 'pauper's cell'.

III.47

2005-02-18T00:00:00.000Z

Capena grandi porta qua pluit gutta
Phrygiumque Matris Almo qua lauat ferrum,
Horatiorum qua uiret sacer campus
qua pusilli feruet Herculis fanum,
Faustine, plena Bassus ibat in raeda,
omnis beati copias trahens ruris.
illic uideres frutice nobili caules
et utrumque porrum sessilesque lactucas
pigroque uentri non inutiles betas;
illic coronam pinguibus grauem turdis
leporemque laesum Gallici canis dente
nondumque uicta lacteum faba porcum.
nec feriatus ibat ante carrucam,
sed tuta faeno cursor oua portabat.
urbem petebat Bassus? immo rus ibat.

Where the Capena gate rains with large drops, and where the Almo washes the Mother's Phrygian iron, where the sacred field of the Horatii is green and where, Faustinus, the temple of the puny Hercules seethes, Bassus was coming in his full carriage, bringing along all the abundance of a prosperous country estate. There you might see fine leafy cabbages, and both sorts of leek, and dwarf lettuces, and beets that are not useless for a sluggish belly; there you might see a hoop heavy with fat thrushes, and a hare wounded by the tooth of a Gallic dog, and a sucking pig which had not yet eaten a bean. Nor was the runner on holiday who was going along in front of the carriage, but he was carrying eggs safe in hay. Was Bassus making for the city? No, he was going to the country.

III.46

2005-02-17T00:00:00.000Z

exigis a nobis operam sine fine togatam:
  non eo, libertum sed tibi mitto meum.
'non est' inquis 'idem.' multo plus esse probabo:
  uix ego lecticam subsequar, ille feret.
in turbam incideris, cunctos umbone repellet:
  inualidum est nobis ingenuumque latus.
quidlibet in causa narraueris, ipse tacebo:
  at tibi tergeminum mugiet ille sophos.
lis erit, ingenti faciet conuicia uoce:
  esse pudor uetuit fortia uerba mihi.
'ergo nihil nobis' inquis 'praestabis amicus?'
  quidquid libertus, Candide, non poterit.

You demand of us a toga-wearing service without end. I don't go, but I send you my freedman. 'It's not the same,' you say. I shall prove that it is much more: I'll only just keep up with your litter; he'll carry it. You've run into a crowd, he'll push them all back with his elbows: my flank is weak and well-born. You tell some story while pleading a case, I'll keep quiet; but he will bellow a threefold bravo. You'll have a lawsuit, he'll shout insults in a huge voice: modesty forbids me strong words. 'And so,' you say, 'will you provide me with nothing as a friend?' Whatever, Candidus, a freedman cannot.

III.45

2005-02-16T00:00:00.000Z

fugerit an Phoebus mensas cenamque Thyestae
  ignoro: fugimus nos, Ligurine, tuam.
illa quidem lauta est dapibusque instructa superbis,
  sed nihil omnino te recitante placet.
nolo mihi ponas rhombos mullumue bilibrem
  nec uolo boletos, ostrea nolo: tace.

Whether Phoebus fled Thyestes' tables and dinner, I know not: but we flee yours, Ligurinus. Indeed it is refined, furnished with splendid feasts, but nothing at all gives pleasure while you're reciting. I don't want you to serve me turbot or a two-pound mullet, nor do I want mushrooms, I don't want oysters: shut up.

III.44

2005-02-15T00:00:00.000Z

  occurrit tibi nemo quod libenter
  quod, quacumque uenis, fuga est et ingens
  circa te, Ligurine, solitudo,
  quid sit, scire cupis? nimis poeta es.
  hoc ualde uitium periculosum est.
  non tigris catulis citata raptis,
  non dipsas medio perusta sole,
  nec sic scorpios improbus timetur.
  nam tantos, rogo, quis ferat labores?
  et stanti legis et legis sedenti,
  currenti legis et legis cacanti.
  in thermas fugio: sonas ad aurem.
  piscinam peto: non licet natare.
  ad cenam propero: tenes euntem.
  ad cenam uenio: fugas edentem.
  lassus dormio: suscitas iacentem.
  uis, quantum facias mali, uidere?
  uir iustus, probus, innocens timeris.

Do you want to know why it is that no one meets you gladly, that wherever you go there is a running-away and around you, Ligurinus, an enormous solitude? You're too much of a poet. This is a very dangerous blemish. Not a tigress who's been roused by the theft of her cubs, not a thirsty-snake burnt up by the midday sun, nor a nasty scorpion, is feared as much as this. For who, I ask you, would bear such great hardships? You read to me as I stand, and you read as I sit, you read as I run and you read as I shit. I flee into the baths: you sound in my ear. I make for the swimming-pool: I'm not allowed to swim. I hurry to dinner: you detain me as I go. I arrive at dinner: you put me to flight as I eat. Tired out, I sleep: you rouse me as I lie. Do you want to see how much mischief you make? A just man, honourable, innocent - you are feared.

III.43

2005-02-14T00:00:00.000Z

mentiris iuuenem tinctis, Laetine, capillis,
tam subito coruus, qui modo cycnus eras!
non omnes fallis; scit te Proserpina canum:
personam capiti detrahet illa tuo.

You make a pretence that you're a youth, Laetinus, with your dyed hair; so suddenly a raven, you who were only just now a swan! You're not fooling everyone; Proserpina knows you're white-haired. She will take away the mask from your head.

III.42

2005-02-13T00:00:00.000Z

lomento rugas uteri quod condere temptas,
Polla, tibi uentrem, non mihi labra linis.
simpliciter pateat uitium fortasse pusillum:
quod tegitur, maius creditur esse malum.

You try to cover up your belly's wrinkles with bean-meal cream, Polla; but it's your stomach, not my lips, which you smear. Frankly, the blemish, perhaps a tiny one, should be revealed. A fault that's concealed is believed to be all the greater.

III.41

2005-02-12T00:00:00.000Z

mutua quod nobis ter quinquagena dedisti
ex opibus tantis, quas grauis arca premit,
esse tibi magnus, Telesine, uideris amicus.
tu magnus, quod das? immo ego, quod recipis.

Because you've given me three times fifty thousand as a loan, out of riches so vast as your heavy strongbox conceals, Telesinus, you consider yourself to be a great friend. You're great because you give it? I'm great, more like - because you get it back again.

III.40

2005-02-11T00:00:00.000Z

inserta phialae Mentoris manu ducta
lacerta uiuit et timetur argentum.

Set into the bowl lives a lizard, fashioned by the hand of Mentor - and the silver is feared.

III.39

2005-02-10T00:00:00.000Z

Iliaco similem puerum, Faustine, ministro
lusca Lycoris amat. quam bene lusca uidet!

Lycoris the one-eyed loves a boy like the Trojan servant. How well the one-eyed lady sees!

III.38

2005-02-09T00:00:00.000Z

quae te causa trahit uel quae fiducia Romam,
  Sexte? quid aut speras aut petis inde? refer.
'causas' inquis 'agam Cicerone disertior ipso
  atque erit in triplici par mihi nemo foro.'
egit Atestinus causas et Ciuis - utrumque
  noras - sed neutri pensio tota fuit.
'si nihil hinc ueniet, pangentur carmina nobis:
  audieris, dices esse Maronis opus."
insanis: omnes gelidis quicumque lacernis
  sunt ibi, Nasones Vergiliosque uides.
'atria magna colam.' uix tres aut quattuor ista
  res aluit; pallet cetera turba fame.
'quid faciam suade: nam certum est uiuere Romae.'
  si bonus es, casu uiuere, Sexte, potes.

What inducement, or what confidence, drags you to Rome, Sextus? What do you hope for or look for from there? Do tell. 'I shall plead cases,' you say, 'more eloquently than Cicero himself, and there will be no one to equal me in the three forums.' Atestinus and Civis pleaded cases - you knew both of them - but neither earned his full rent. 'If nothing comes of this, I'll compose poetry: hear it, and you'll say it's Maro's work.' You're mad: you see all the people who are here in their frosty cloaks; they're Nasos and Virgils. 'I'll pay my respects at great halls.' That ruse has barely supported three or four; the rest of the crowd is pale with hunger. 'Advise me what I should do: for I'm resolved to live in Rome.' If you're an honest man, Sextus, you can live at random.

III.37

2005-02-08T00:00:00.000Z

irasci tantum felices nostis amici.
non belle facitis, sed iuuat hoc facere.

You rich friends know only how to get angry. You're not acting in a very pleasant way, but it gratifies you to act like this.

III.36

2005-02-07T00:00:00.000Z

quod nouus et nuper factus tibi praestat amicus,
  hoc praestare iubes me, Fabiane, tibi:
horridus ut primo semper te mane salutem
  per mediumque trahat me tua sella lutum,
lassus ut in thermas decima uel serius hora
  te sequar Agrippae, cum lauer ipse Titi.
hoc per triginta merui, Fabiane, Decembres,
  ut sim tiro tuae semper amicitiae?
hoc merui, Fabiane, toga tritaque meaque,
  ut nondum credas me meruisse rudem?

You tell me, Fabianus, to provide you with what a recently made new friend gives you: that, shivering, I must greet you always first thing in the morning, and your chair must drag me right through the mud, and that when I'm worn out, at the tenth hour or later, I must follow you to the Baths of Agrippa, although I myself bathe at the Baths of Titus. Have I deserved this, Fabianus, through thirty Decembers - that I am always a raw recruit to your friendship? Have I deserved this, Fabianus, with my threadbare toga that I had to get myself - that you don't yet think I've earned my wooden sword?

III.35

2005-02-06T00:00:00.000Z

artis Phidiacae toreuma clarum
pisces aspicis: adde aquam, natabunt.

You look at the fishes, famous embossed work of Phidias' skill. Add water and they'll swim!

III.34

2005-02-05T00:00:00.000Z

digna tuo cur sis indignaque nomine, dicam.
frigida es et nigra es: non es et es Chione.

I'll tell you why you're suited and not suited to your name. You are cold, and you are dusky: you are, and are not, Chione.

III.33

2005-02-04T00:00:00.000Z

ingenuam malo, sed si tamen illa negetur,
libertina mihi proxima condicio est.
extremo est ancilla loco; sed uincet utramque
si facie, nobis haec erit ingenua.

I prefer a freeborn girl; if she is denied me, however, my next requirement is a freedwoman. In last place is a slave-girl; but if she beats them both in good looks, in my eyes she will be free.

III.32

2005-02-03T00:00:00.000Z

non possum uetulam: quereris, Matrinia? possum
et uetulam - sed tu mortua, non uetula es.
possum Hecubam, possum Niobam, Matrinia, sed si
nondum erit illa canis, nondum erit illa lapis.

I can't do a little old woman. Are you complaining, Matrinia? In fact I can do an old woman - but you're not old, you're dead! I can do a Hecuba, I can do a Niobe, Matrinia, but only if the former is not yet a dog, the latter not yet a stone.

III.31

2005-02-02T00:00:00.000Z

sunt tibi, confiteor, diffusi iugera campi,
  urbanique tenent praedia multa lares,
et seruit dominae numerosus debitor arcae,
  sustentatque tuas aurea massa dapes.
fastidire tamen noli, Rufine, minores:
  plus habuit Didymus, plus Philomelus habet.

You have (I admit) acres of wide open plains, and your household gods in town occupy many estates, and your numerous debtors serve their mistress the strong-box, and a mass of gold supports your banquets. However, Rufus, do not disdain lesser people: Didymus had more, Philomelus has more.

III.30

2005-02-01T00:00:00.000Z

sportula nulla datur; gratis conuiua recumbis:
  dic mihi, quid Romae, Gargiliane, facis?
unde tibi togula est et fuscae pensio cellae?
  unde datur quadrans? unde uir es Chiones?
cum ratione licet dicas te uiuere summa,
  quod uiuis, nulla cum ratione facis.

No dole is being provided; you recline as a guest free of charge. Tell me: what, Gargilianus, are you doing in Rome? Where does your little toga come from, and the rent for your dingy bedsit? Where does your farthing come from? How are you Chione's man? Although you say that you live with the most reasonable frugality, in the very fact that you are alive you defy reason.

III.29

2005-01-31T00:00:00.000Z

has cum gemina compede dedicat catenas,
Saturne, tibi Zoilus, anulos priores.

These chains, with their twin shackles, Zoilus dedicates to you, Saturn - his previous rings.

III.28

2005-01-30T00:00:00.000Z

auriculam Mario grauiter miraris olere.
tu facis hoc: garris, Nestor, in auriculam.

You're amazed that Marius' ear smells nasty. It's you that make it so: you chatter, Nestor, into his ear.

III.27

2005-01-29T00:00:00.000Z

numquam me reuocas, uenias cum saepe uocatus:
ignosco, nullum si modo, Galle, uocas.
inuitas alios: uitium est utriusque. 'quod?' inquis.
et mihi cor non est et tibi, Galle, pudor.

You never invite me back, although you often come when you've been invited. I forgive you, Gallus, only if you invite nobody. But you do invite others. We both of us have a fault; 'What is it?' you say. I have no judgement and you, Gallus, have no shame.

III.26

2005-01-28T00:00:00.000Z

praedia solus habes et solus, Candide, nummos,
  aurea solus habes, murrina solus habes,
Massica solus habes et Opimi Caecuba solus,
  et cor solus habes, solus et ingenium.
omnia solus habes - hoc me puta uelle negare -
  uxorem sed habes, Candide, cum populo.

Only you have land, Candidus, and only you have cash; only you have gold plate, only you have porcelain, only you have Massic and Caecuban of Opimian vintage, and only you have brains, only you have talent. You have everything - suppose that I don't want to deny it - but you have a wife shared with the public.

III.25

2005-01-27T00:00:00.000Z

  si temperari balneum cupis feruens,
  Faustine, quod uix Iulianus intraret,
  roga lauetur rhetorem Sabineium.
  Neronianas is refrigerat thermas.

If, Faustinus, you want to cool down a boiling-hot bath that even Julianus could barely get into, ask Sabineius the rhetorician to wash in it. He can chill the warm baths of Nero.

III.24

2005-01-26T00:00:00.000Z

uite nocens rosa stabat moriturus ad aras
  hircus, Bacche, tuis uictima grata sacris;
quem Tuscus mactare deo cum uellet aruspex,
  dixerat agresti forte rudique uiro
ut cito testiculos peracuta falce secaret,
  taeter ut immundae carnis abiret odor.
ipse super uirides aras luctantia pronus
  dum resecat cultro colla premitque manu,
ingens iratis apparuit hirnea sacris.
  occupat hanc ferro rusticus atque secat,
hoc ratus antiquos sacrorum poscere ritus
  talibus et fibris numina prisca coli.
sic, modo qui Tuscus fueras, nunc Gallus aruspex,
  dum iugulas hircum, factus es ipse caper.

Since he caused injury to a vine, a billy-goat was standing about to die at your altar, Bacchus, a welcome victim at your rites. When the Tuscan soothsayer was intending to sacrifice him to the god, he told a man, who happened to be an unrefined rustic, to cut the testicles quick with a sharpened sickle, so that the noisome odour of unclean flesh might go away. While he himself was stooping over the green altar, cutting the struggling neck with the knife and pressing with his hand, a huge hernea appeared to the angry rites. The rustic seizes upon this and cuts it with the steel, thinking that the ancient rites of sacrifice require this, and that with such organs the deities of old are worshipped. So, you who were just recently a Tuscan soothsayer are now a Gallic one; while you were slaughtering a billy-goat you yourself became a gelding.

III.23

2005-01-25T00:00:00.000Z

omnia cum retro pueris opsonia tradas,
cur non mensa tibi ponitur a pedibus?

Since you pass all the side-dishes to the slaves behind you, why is your table not put at your feet?

III.22

2005-01-24T00:00:00.000Z

  dederas, Apici, bis trecenties uentri,
  et adhuc supererat centies tibi laxum.
  hoc tu grauatus ut famem et sitim ferre
  summa uenenum potione perduxti.
  nihil est, Apici, tibi gulosius factum.

You, Apicius, had bestowed sixty million on your belly, and still you had a good ten million left. Weighed down by this as though you were having to bear with hunger and thirst, you took poison with your last drink. Nothing you ever did, Apicius, was more gluttonous.

III.21

2005-01-23T00:00:00.000Z

proscriptum famulus seruauit fronte notatus.
non fuit haec domini uita, sed inuidia.

A slave with branded forehead saved the proscribed man. This was not [giving him] life, but odium.

III.20

2005-01-22T00:00:00.000Z

  dic, Musa, quid agat Canius meus Rufus:
  utrumne chartis tradit ille uicturis
  legenda temporum acta Claudianorum?
  an quae Neroni falsus astruit scriptor?
  an aemulatur improbi iocos Phaedri?
  lasciuus elegis an seuerus herois?
  an in cothurnis horridus Sophocleis?
  an otiosus in schola poetarum
  lepore tinctos Attico sales narrat?
  hinc si recessit, porticum terit +templi+
  an spatia carpit lentus Argonautarum?
  an delicatae sole rursus Europae
  inter tepentes post meridiem buxos
  sedet ambulatue liber acribus curis?
  Titine thermis an lauatur Agrippae
  an impudici balneo Tigillini?
  an rure Tulli fruitur atque Lucani?
  An Pollionis dulce currit ad quartum?
  an aestuantis iam profectus ad Baias
  piger Lucrino nauculatur in stagno?
  'uis scire quid agat Canius tuus? ridet.'

Tell, Muse, what my friend Canius Rufus is doing: is he committing to paper the deeds of Claudian times, to be read by men yet to live? Or the things which a deceitful writer attributed to Nero? Or is he emulating the jokes of mischievous Phaedrus? Is he being wanton in elegy or austere in epic? Or grim in Sophoclean boots? Or, at leisure in the poets' school, does he tell witty tales tinged with Attic charm? If he withdraws from there, does he frequent the portico of a temple or slowly amble across the spaces of the Argonauts? Or again, does he sit or walk, free from bitter cares, in the sunshine of tender Europa among the box-trees which are warm after midday? Is he bathing in the warm baths of Titus or of Agrippa, or at the bath-house of shameless Tigillinus? Or is he enjoying the country estate of Tullus and Lucanus? Or is he running to Pollio's pleasant place at the fourth [milestone]? Or, having already left for boiling hot Baiae, is he lazily boating in the Lucrine lagoon? 'You want to know what your friend Canius is doing? He's laughing.'

III.19

2005-01-21T00:00:00.000Z

proxima centenis ostenditur ursa columnis,
  exornant fictae qua platanona ferae.
huius dum patulos alludens temptat hiatus
  pulcher Hylas, teneram mersit in ora manum;
uipera sed caeco scelerata latebat in aere
  uiuebatque anima deteriore fera.
non sensit puer esse dolos, nisi dente recepto
  dum perit. o facinus, falsa quod ursa fuit!

A bear is displayed near to the Hundred Columns, where sculpted beasts decorate the grove of plane-trees. As beautiful Hylas was playing with it and testing its gaping jaws, he sunk his tender hand into the mouth. But a wicked viper was concealed in the dark bronze, and the [sculpted] beast was alive with a soul worse than its own. The boy did not realize there was a trap until he had been bitten and was dying. O what villainy that the bear was deceitful!

III.18

2005-01-20T00:00:00.000Z

perfrixisse tuas questa est praefatio fauces:
cum te excusaris, Maxime, quid recitas?

Your introduction complained that you've got a cold in your throat: since you've excused yourself, Maximus, why are you reciting?

III.17

2005-01-19T00:00:00.000Z

circumlata diu mensis scribilita secundis
  urebat nimio saeua calore manus;
sed magis ardebat Sabidi gula: protinus ergo
  sufflauit buccis terque quaterque suis.
illa quidem tepuit digitosque admittere uisa est,
  sed nemo potuit tangere: merda fuit.

A tart, passed round for quite a while during the second course, kept burning our hands with its excessive heat. But Sabidius' greed was burning even hotter: so at once he blew on it with his cheeks three or four times. Yes, it cooled and seemed ready to let our fingers in - but no one could touch it. It had become a turd.

III.16

2005-01-18T00:00:00.000Z

das gladiatores, sutorum regule, Cerdo,
  quodque tibi tribuit subula, sica rapit.
ebrius es: neque enim faceres hoc sobrius umquam,
  ut uelles corio ludere, Cerdo, tuo.
lusisti corio: sed te, mihi crede, memento
  nunc in pellicula, Cerdo, tenere tua.

You're putting on a gladiator-show, Cerdo, you prince of shoemakers, and what your awl has granted you, the dagger is snatching away. You're drunk: because if you were sober you would never have done this - wanting to play with your own hide. You have played with your hide, but (trust me) remember to keep yourself, Cerdo, in your own little skin.

III.15

2005-01-17T00:00:00.000Z

plus credit nemo tota quam Cordus in urbe.
'cum sit tam pauper, quomodo?' caecus amat.

No one in the whole city is more trusting than Cordus. 'How come, if he's so poor?' He's blind in love.

III.14

2005-01-16T00:00:00.000Z

  Romam petebat esuritor Tuccius
    profectus ex Hispania.
  occurrit illi sportularum fabula:
    a ponte rediit Muluio.

Starving Tuccius was on his way to Rome, having set out from Spain. The story about the dole met him: he went back from the Mulvian Bridge.

III.13

2005-01-15T00:00:00.000Z

dum non uis pisces, dum non uis carpere pullos
et plus quam patri, Naeuia, parcis apro,
accusas rumpisque cocum, tamquam omnia cruda
attulerit. numquam sic ego crudus ero.

When you don't want to serve up the fish, when you don't want to serve up the chicken, and when you're being more careful with the boar, Naevia, than you would be with your father, you blame the cook and lay into him, as if everything he'd brought in was uneatable. I'm never going to suffer indigestion this way.

III.12

2005-01-14T00:00:00.000Z

  unguentum, fateor, bonum dedisti
  conuiuis here, sed nihil scidisti.
  res salsa est bene olere et esurire.
  qui non cenat et unguitur, Fabulle,
  hic uere mihi mortuus uidetur.

You gave (I admit) a good unguent to your guests yesterday, but you carved nothing. It's a witty thing to smell nice and be hungry. A man who has not dined but has been anointed, Fabullus, seems to me to be truly dead.

III.11

2005-01-13T00:00:00.000Z

si tua nec Thais nec lusca est, Quinte, puella,
  cur in te factum distichon esse putas?
sed simile est aliquid: pro Laide Thaida dixi.
  dic mihi: quid simile est Thais et Hermione?
tu tamen es Quintus; mutemus nomen amantis.
  si non uult Quintus, Thaida Sextus amet.

If your girlfriend isn't Thais and isn't one-eyed, Quintus, why do you think the couplet was directed at you? But there is some similarity: I said 'Thais' in place of 'Lais'. Tell me: 'Thais' and 'Hermione', what's similar there? But you are Quintus; let's change the lover's name. If Quintus doesn't want to, let Sextus love Thais.

III.10

2005-01-12T00:00:00.000Z

constituit, Philomuse, pater tibi milia bina
  menstrua perque omnis praestitit illa dies,
luxuriam premeret cum crastina semper egestas
  et uitiis essent danda diurna tuis.
idem te moriens heredem ex asse reliquit.
  exheredauit te, Philomuse, pater.

Your father, Philomusus, fixed a monthly two thousand for you, and through all his days he kept his word, when tomorrow's poverty was always pressing on your extravagance and daily gifts had to be given for your vices. As he was dying he left you as sole heir. Philomusus, your father has disinherited you.

III.9

2005-01-11T00:00:00.000Z

uersiculos in me narratur scribere Cinna.
non scribit, cuius carmina nemo legit.

The story goes that Cinna's writing little verses attacking me. A man doesn't 'write' if nobody reads his poems.

III.8

2005-01-10T00:00:00.000Z

'Thaida Quintus amat.' 'quam Thaida?' 'Thaida luscam.'
'unum oculum Thais non habet, ille duos.'

'Quintus loves Thais.' 'Which Thais?' 'The one-eyed Thais.' 'Thais is missing one eye - he's missing two!'

III.7

2005-01-09T00:00:00.000Z

  centum miselli iam ualete quadrantes,
  anteambulonis congiarium lassi,
  quos diuidebat balneator elixus.
  quid cogitatis, o fames amicorum?
  regis superbi sportulae recesserunt.
  'nihil stropharum est: iam salarium dandum est.'

Goodbye now, miserable little hundred quadrantes, dole for the weary forerunner, you who the boiled bath-house keeper used to split up. What do you think, my famished friends? The puffed-up patron's handouts have disappeared. 'It's no trick: now he must give a salary.'

III.6

2005-01-08T00:00:00.000Z

lux tibi post Idus numeratur tertia Maias,
  Marcelline, tuis bis celebranda sacris.
imputat aetherios ortus haec prima parenti,
  libat florentes haec tibi prima genas.
magna licet dederit iucundae munera uitae,
  plus numquam patri praestitit ille dies.

The third day after the Ides of May is reckoned to you, Marcellinus, as a day to be celebrated twice over with your sacrifices. This day first reckons to your father his heavenly birth, this day first takes from your flowering cheeks. Although it gave him the great gifts of a pleasant life, never did that day provide your father with more.

III.5

2005-01-07T00:00:00.000Z

uis commendari sine me cursurus in urbem,
  parue liber, multis, an satis unus erit?
unus erit, mihi crede, satis, cui non eris hospes,
  Iulius, assiduum nomen in ore meo.
protinus hunc primae quaeres in limine Tectae:
  quos tenuit Daphnis, nunc tenet ille lares.
est illi coniunx, quae te manibusque sinuque
  excipiet, tu uel puluerulentus eas.
hos tu seu pariter siue hanc illumue priorem
  uideris, hoc dices 'Marcus hauere iubet'
et satis est. alios commendet epistula: peccat
  qui commendandum se putat esse suis.

You're about to run without me to the city, little book: do you want to be recommended to many people, or will one be enough? One will be enough, believe me, a man to whom you won't be a stranger - Julius, a name that's continually on my lips. Look for him immediately at the very threshold of the Covered Way: he occupies the house which Daphnis once occupied. He has a wife, who will receive you in her hands and bosom, even though you come covered in dust. Whether you see them together or you see her or him first, say this: 'Marcus sends his regards,' and that is enough. Let a letter recommend others: anyone who thinks he needs to be recommended to his own is in error.

III.4

2005-01-06T00:00:00.000Z

Romam uade, liber: si ueneris unde requiret,
  Aemiliae dices de regione uiae;
si, quibus in terris, qua simus in urbe rogabit,
  Corneli referas me licet esse Foro.
cur absim quaeret, breuiter tu multa fatere:
  'non poterat uanae taedia ferre togae.'
'quando uenit?' dicet, tu respondeto: 'poeta
  exierat: ueniet, cum citharoedus erit.'

Go to Rome, book: if she enquires where you have come from, say from the direction of the Aemilian Way. If she asks what land, what city I am in, you can reply that I am in Forum Cornelii. If she seeks to know why I'm away, make a long story short: 'He couldn't bear the tedium of the fruitless toga.' If she says, 'When's he coming back?' you reply, 'It was as a poet that he left: he will come back when he is a lyre-singer.'

III.3

2005-01-05T00:00:00.000Z

formosam faciem nigro medicamine celas,
sed non formoso corpore laedis aquas.
ipsam crede deam uerbis tibi dicere nostris:
'aut aperi faciem, aut tunicata laua.'

You conceal a beautiful face with black ointment, but you offend the water with a body that is not beautiful. Believe that the goddess herself is saying to you through my words: 'Either uncover your face or bathe with your tunic on.'

III.2

2005-01-04T00:00:00.000Z

  cuius uis fieri, libelle, munus?
  festina tibi uindicem parare,
  ne nigram cito raptus in culinam
  cordylas madida tegas papyro
  uel turis piperisue sis cucullus.
  Faustini fugis in sinum? sapisti.
  cedro nunc licet ambules perunctus
  et frontis gemino decens honore
  pictis luxurieris umbilicis,
  et te purpura delicata uelet,
  et cocco rubeat superbus index.
  illo uindice nec Probum timeto.

Whose gift do you want to be, little book? Hurry to ready a protector for yourself, lest, swiftly snatched away into a blackened kitchen, you wrap tunny-fry with your sodden papyrus, or you be a hood for incense or pepper. You fly into the bosom of Faustinus? You have shown good sense. Now you may walk anointed all over with cedar, and, handsome with the double decoration of your brow, you may luxuriate in your painted rolling-sticks, and a delicate purple may clothe you, and your proud title may blush with its scarlet dye. With him as your protector, have no fear of Probus.

III.1

2005-01-03T00:00:00.000Z

hoc tibi, quidquid id est, longinquis mittit ab oris
  Gallia Romanae nomine dicta togae.
hunc legis et laudas librum fortasse priorem:
  illa uel haec mea sunt, quae meliora putas.
plus sane placeat domina qui natus in urbe est:
  debet enim Gallum uincere uerna liber.

This - such as it is - the Gaul which is called by the name of the Roman toga sends to you from far-off regions. You read this book and perhaps you praise the previous one: that one or this one is mine, whichever you think the better. Surely the one which was born in the imperial city should please more, for a home-born book ought to conquer a Gaul.

II.93

2005-01-02T00:00:00.000Z

'primus ubi est' inquis 'cum sit liber iste secundus?'
quid faciam, si plus ille pudoris habet?
tu tamen hunc fieri si mauis, Regule, primum,
unum de titulo tollere iota potes.

'Where is Book I,' you say, 'if this is Book II?' What can I do if that one has more modesty? However, if you prefer this one to become Book I, Regulus, you can take one I from the title.

II.92

2005-01-01T00:00:00.000Z

  natorum mihi ius trium roganti
  Musarum pretium dedit mearum
  solus qui poterat. ualebis, uxor:
  non debet domini perire munus.

When I asked for the Right of Three Children, he who alone has the power gave me the reward for my Muses. Goodbye, wife! Our lord's gift should not go to waste.

II.91

2004-12-31T00:00:00.000Z

rerum certa salus, terrarum gloria, Caesar,
  sospite quo magnos credimus esse deos,
si festinatis totiens tibi lecta libellis
  detinuere oculos carmina nostra tuos,
quod fortuna uetat fieri permitte uideri,
  natorum genitor credar ut esse trium.
haec, si displicui, fuerint solacia nobis;
  haec fuerint nobis praemia, si placui.

O sure salvation of the world, the glory of the earth, Caesar, while you are safe we believe that the gods exist. If my poems, so often read by you in hasty little books, have detained your eyes, permit that what Fortune has forbidden might seem to be: that I should be considered to be the father of three children. If I have displeased, this will be my consolation; this will be my reward if I have pleased.

II.90

2004-12-30T00:00:00.000Z

Quintiliane, uagae moderator summe iuuentae,
  gloria Romanae, Quintiliane, togae,
uiuere quod propero pauper nec inutilis annis,
  da ueniam: properat uiuere nemo satis.
differat hoc patrios optat qui uincere census
  atriaque immodicis artat imaginibus.
me focus et nigros non indignantia fumos
  tecta iuuant et fons uiuus et herba rudis.
sit mihi uerna satur, sit non doctissima coniunx,
  sit nox cum somno, sit sine lite dies.

Quintilian! Greatest restrainer of wayward youth, glory of the Roman toga, Quintilian! For the fact that I am in a hurry to live life to the full, though a poor man and not useless through old age, forgive me: no one can hurry to live life to the full quickly enough. The man who wants to outdo his father's wealth and who packs his atrium with an excessive number of portrait-busts: let that man put it off. As for me, I enjoy the hearth and a roof that does not take offence at black smoke, and a living spring, and fresh grass. May I have a well-fed home-born slave, a wife who is not over-educated, nighttime with sleep, and daytime without a lawsuit.

II.89

2004-12-29T00:00:00.000Z

quod nimio gaudes noctem producere uino
  ignosco: uitium, Gaure, Catonis habes.
carmina quod scribis Musis et Apolline nullo
  laudari debes: hoc Ciceronis habes.
quod uomis, Antoni; quod luxuriaris, Apici.
  quod fellas, uitium dic mihi cuius habes?

For the fact that you enjoy prolonging the night with too much wine, I forgive you: you have Cato's bad habit, Gaurus. For the fact that you write poems without and Muses or Apollo, you should be praised: you have this bad habit of Cicero's. For the fact that you vomit - Antonius'. For your luxurious living - Apicius'. For the fact that you suck cocks - tell me, whose bad habit do you have?

II.88

2004-12-28T00:00:00.000Z

nil recitas et uis, Mamerce, poeta uideri.
quidquid uis esto, dummodo nil recites.

You don't give any recitations, yet, Mamercus, you wish to be considered a poet. Be whatever you want, just as long as you don't give any recitations.

II.87

2004-12-27T00:00:00.000Z

dicis amore tui bellas ardere puellas,
qui faciem sub aqua, Sexte, natantis habes.

You say that the pretty girls are burning with love for you - you, Sextus, who have the face of a man swimming under water!

II.86

2004-12-26T00:00:00.000Z

  quod nec carmine glorior supino
  nec retro lego Sotaden cinaedum,
  nusquam Graecula quod recantat echo
  nec dictat mihi luculentus Attis
  mollem debilitate galliambon,
  non sum, Classice, tam malus poeta.
  quid si per gracilis uias petauri
  inuitum iubeas subire Ladan?
  turpe est difficiles habere nugas
  et stultus labor est ineptiarum.
  scribat carmina circulis Palaemon,
  me raris iuuat auribus placere.

Just because I don't pride myself on palindromic poetry or read bumboy Sotades backwards; just because nowhere does a Greekling echo sing back, nor does bright Attis dictate to me the galliambic verse, soft in its weakness, I am not, Classicus, such a bad poet. What if you were to tell [the runner] Ladas to mount the slender paths of the tightrope against his will? It is disgraceful to make trifling stuff difficult, and hard work on frivolities is stupid. Let Palaemon write poems for the surrounding crowds. I enjoy pleasing select ears.

II.85

2004-12-25T00:00:00.000Z

uimine clausa leui niueae custodia coctae -
hoc tibi Saturni tempore munus erit.
dona quod aestatis misi tibi mense Decembri
si quereris, rasam tu mihi mitte togam.

A flask, enclosed in light wickerwork for water that's been boiled then iced - this will be my gift to you at the time of Saturnalia. If you complain that I've sent you a summer gift in the month of December, then, for your part, send me a shorn toga.

II.84

2004-12-24T00:00:00.000Z

mollis erat facilisque uiris Poeantius heros:
uulnera sic Paridis dicitur ulta Venus.
cur lingat cunnum Siculus Sertorius, hoc est:
+ab hoc occisus+, Rufe, uidetur Eryx.

The hero son of Poeantius was effeminate and an easy lay for men: Venus is said to have avenged Paris' wounds in this way. The reason why the Sicilian Sertorius licks cunt is this: it seems, Rufus, that Eryx was killed by him.

II.83

2004-12-23T00:00:00.000Z

  foedasti miserum, marite, moechum,
  et se, qui fuerant prius, requirunt
  trunci naribus auribusque uultus.
  credis te satis esse uindicatum?
  erras: iste potest et irrumare.

You have disfigured, husband, the wretched adulterer, and his face, stripped of its nose and ears, seeks its former self. Do you think you have been sufficiently avenged? You're wrong: he can also fuck in the mouth.

II.82

2004-12-22T00:00:00.000Z

abscisa seruum quid figis, Pontice, lingua?
nescis tu populum, quod tacet ille, loqui?

Why have you cut off your slave's tongue and crucified him, Ponticus? Don't you know that the populace is talking about what he is keeping quiet?

II.81

2004-12-21T00:00:00.000Z

laxior hexaphoris tua sit lectica licebit;
cum tamen haec tua sit, Zoile, sandapila est.

Your litter may well be more spacious than ones with six bearers; but since it is yours, Zoilus, it's a pauper's bier.

II.80

2004-12-20T00:00:00.000Z

hostem cum fugeret, se Fannius ipse peremit.
hic, rogo, non furor est, ne moriare, mori?

As he was fleeing the enemy, Fannius killed himself. I ask you! Is this not madness - dying so as not to die?

II.79

2004-12-19T00:00:00.000Z

inuitas tunc me cum scis, Nasica, uocasse.
excusatum habeas me rogo: ceno domi.

You only invite me to dinner, Nasica, when you know I have guests myself. I beg you to excuse me: I'm dining at home.

II.78

2004-12-18T00:00:00.000Z

aestiuo serues ubi piscem tempore, quaeris?
in thermis serua, Caeciliane, tuis.

You ask where you should keep fish in summertime? Keep it in your bath-house, Caecilianus.

II.77

2004-12-17T00:00:00.000Z

Cosconi, qui longa putas epigrammata nostra,
  utilis unguendis axibus esse potes.
hac tu credideris longum ratione colosson
  et puerum Bruti dixeris esse breuem.
disce quod ignoras: Marsi doctique Pedonis
  saepe duplex unum pagina tractat opus.
non sunt longa quibus nihil est quod demere possis,
  sed tu, Cosconi, disticha longa facis.

Cosconius, you who think my epigrams are long, you can be useful for greasing axles! By this reasoning you would think the Colossus too tall and you would call Brutus' [stauette of a] boy too short. Learn what you're ignorant of: often a double page is taken up with a single piece of Marsus' or Pedo's. Things aren't long if there's nothing that you could take away from them, but you, Cosconius, write long couplets.

II.76

2004-12-16T00:00:00.000Z

argenti libras Marius tibi quinque reliquit.
cui nihil ipse dabas, hic tibi uerba dedit?

Marius left you five pounds of silver. The man to whom you yourself used to give nothing, has he given you words?

II.75

2004-12-15T00:00:00.000Z

uerbera securi solitus leo ferre magistri
  insertamque pati blandus in ora manum
dedidicit pacem subito feritate reuersa,
  quanta nec in Libycis debuit esse iugis.
nam duo de tenera puerilia corpora turba,
  sanguineam rastris quae renouabat humum,
saeuus et infelix furiali dente peremit:
  Martia non uidit maius harena nefas.
exclamare libet: 'crudelis, perfide, praedo,
  a nostra pueris parcere disce lupa!'

A lion, accustomed to bear his fearless master's beatings and gently to allow a hand to be inserted in his mouth, suddenly unlearned his peaceful ways when his ferocity returned, such ferocity as there should not have been even in the Libyan heights. For with his raging fangs the savage wretch killed two boyish bodies from the youthful crowd which was refreshing the bloody ground with rakes. Mars' arena has not seen a greater outrage. One would like to shout out: 'Cruel, treacherous, brigand! Learn from our she-wolf how to spare boys!"

II.74

2004-12-14T00:00:00.000Z

  cinctum togatis post et ante Saufeium,
  quanta reduci Regulus solet turba,
  ad alta tonsum templa cum reum misit,
  Materne, cernis? inuidere nolito.
  comitatus iste sit precor tuus numquam.
  hos illi amicos et greges togatorum
  Fuficulenus praestat et Fauentinus.

Maternus, do you spy Saufeius surrounded behind and before by men in togas - a crowd as big as the one that escorts Regulus home when he has sent a shaven defendant to lofty temples? Don't be envious. I pray that you will never have that escort. Fuficulenus and Faventinus provide him with these friends and flocks of men in togas.

II.73

2004-12-13T00:00:00.000Z

quid faciat uult scire Lyris. quod sobria: fellat.

Lyris wants to know what she's doing. The same as when she's sober: sucking cocks.

II.72

2004-12-12T00:00:00.000Z

hesterna factum narratur, Postume, cena
  quod nollem - quis enim talia facta probet? -
os tibi percisum quanto non ipse Latinus
  uilia Panniculi percuti ora sono.
quodque magis mirum est, auctorem criminis huius
  Caecilium tota rumor in urbe sonat.
esse negas factum: uis hoc me credere? credo.
  quid quod habet testes, Postume, Caecilius?

Word is that something happened at dinner last night, Postumus - something I should like not to have happened (for who could approve of that kind of thing?). The story goes that you were smacked in the mouth louder than even Latinus himself smacks Panniculus' worthless face. And, what's more remarkable, the rumour resounds all over the city that the doer of this outrage was Caecilius. You deny that it happened. You want me to believe that? I believe it then. But what about the fact, Postumus, that Caecilius has witnesses?

II.71

2004-12-11T00:00:00.000Z

candidius nihil est te, Caeciliane. notaui,
  si quando ex nostris disticha pauca lego,
protinus aut Marsi recitas aut scripta Catulli.
  hoc mihi das, tamquam deteriora legas,
ut conlata magis placeant mea? credimus istud:
  malo tamen recites, Caeciliane, tua.

Nothing's more kind than you, Caecilianus. I've noticed, whenever I read a few couplets from my work, straight away you recite some writing either of Marsus or of Catullus. Do you do this as a favour to me, as if you're reading stuff that's worse than mine, so that when it's compared mine might please all the more? I believe so - but in that case I'd prefer it, Caecilianus, if you read your own.