No More Learning

XXXXVIIII.

TO MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO.

Most eloquent 'mid race of Romulus
That is or ever was (Marc Tullius! )
Or in the coming years the light shall see,
His thanks, the warmest, offers unto thee
Catullus, poet sorriest that be, 5
And by such measure poet sorriest,
As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.

Most eloquent of Romulus' descendancy, who are, who have been, O Marcus
Tullius, and who shall later be in after time, to thee doth give his
greatest gratitude Catullus, pettiest of all the poets,--and so much
pettiest of all the poets as thou art peerless 'mongst all pleaders.

L.

Hesterno, Licini, die otiosi
Multum lusimus in meis tabellis,
Vt convenerat esse delicatos.
Scribens versiculos uterque nostrum
Ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc, 5
Reddens mutua per iocum atque vinum.
Atque illinc abii tuo lepore
Incensus, Licini, facetiisque,
Vt nec me miserum cibus iuvaret,
Nec somnus tegeret quiete ocellos, 10
Sed toto indomitus furore lecto
Versarer cupiens videre lucem,
Vt tecum loquerer, simulque ut essem.
At defessa labore membra postquam
Semimortua lectulo iacebant, 15
Hoc, iocunde, tibi poema feci,
Ex quo perspiceres meum dolorem.
Nunc audax cave sis, precesque nostras,
Oramus, cave despuas, ocelle,
Ne poenas Nemesis reposcat a te. 20
Est vemens dea: laedere hanc caveto.

L.

TO HIS FRIEND LICINIUS.

Idly (Licinius!
) we our yesterday,
Played with my tablets much as pleased us play,
In mode becoming souls of dainty strain.
Inditing verses either of us twain
Now in one measure then in other line 5
We rang the changes amid wit and wine.
Then fared I homewards by thy fun so fired
And by thy jests (Licinius! ) so inspired,
Nor food my hapless appetite availed
Nor sleep in quiet rest my eyelids veiled, 10
But o'er the bedstead wild in furious plight
I tossed a-longing to behold the light,
So I might talk wi' thee, and be wi' thee.
But when these wearied limbs from labour free
Were on my couchlet strewn half-dead to lie, 15
For thee (sweet wag! ) this poem for thee wrote I,
Whereby thou mete and weet my cark and care.
Now be not over-bold, nor this our prayer
Outspit thou (apple of mine eyes! ): we pray
Lest doom thee Nemesis hard pain repay:-- 20
She's a dire Goddess, 'ware thou cross her way.

Yestreen, Licinius, in restful day, much mirthful verse we flashed upon my
tablets, as became us, men of fancy. Each jotting versicles in turn sported
first in this metre then in that, exchanging mutual epigrams 'midst jokes
and wine. But I departed thence, afire, Licinius, with thy wit and
drolleries, so that food was useless to my wretched self; nor could sleep
close mine eyes in quiet, but all o'er the bed in restless fury did I toss,
longing to behold daylight that with thee I might speak, and again we might
be together. But afterwards, when my limbs, weakened by my restless
labours, lay stretched in semi-death upon the bed, this poem, O jocund one,
I made for thee, from which thou mayst perceive my dolour. Now 'ware thee
of presumptuousness, and our pleadings 'ware thee of rejecting, we pray
thee, eye-babe of ours, lest Nemesis exact her dues from thee. She is a
forceful Goddess; 'ware her wrath.

LI.

Ille mi par esse deo videtur,
Ille, si fas est, superare divos,
Qui sedens adversus identidem te
Spectat et audit
Dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis 5
Eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te,
Lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi
* * * *
Lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus
Flamma demanat, sonitu suopte 10
Tintinant aures geminae, teguntur
Lumina nocte.