Epigrams
II. 62
Quod pectus, quod crura tibi, quod bracchia uellis,
quod cincta est breuibus mentula tonsa pilis,
hoc praestas, Labiene, tuae -- quis nescit? -- amicae.
Cui praestas, culum quod, Labiene, pilas?
When you shave your chest, you arms, your legs,
And all the bushes around your cock,
It's for your girlfriend, everybody knows, Labienus.
But who's for, when you shave also your buttocks?
III. 71
Mentula cum doleat puero, tibi, Naeuole, culus,
non sum diuinus, sed scio quid facias.
Nevolus, your slave has a sore cock, and you a sore ass,
I'm not a clairvoyant, but I know what happened.
IX. 21
Artemidorus habet puerum, sed vendidit agrum;
agrum pro puero Calliodorus habet.
Dic uter ex istis melius rem gesserit, Aucte:
Artemidorus amat, Calliodorus arat.
Artemidorus sold a field to buy a boy slave,
To have a fiel, Callidorus sold his boy slave.
In your opinion, Auctus, which one did a good businness?
Artemidorus loves, Callidorus plows.
IX. 27
Cum depilatos, Chreste, coleos portes
et vulturino mentulam parem collo
et prostitutis levius caput culis,
nec vivat ullus in tuo pilus crure,
purgentque saevae cana labra volsellae;
Curios, Camillos, Quintios, Numas, Ancos,
et quidquid umquam legimus pilosorum
loqueris sonasque grandibus minax verbis,
et cum theatris saeculoque rixaris.
Occurrit aliquis inter ista si draucus.
lam paedagogo liberatus et cuius
refibulavit turgidum faber penem,
nutu vocatum ducis, et pudet fari
Catoniana, Chreste, quod facis lingua.
You, Chrestos, proudly show your shaved balls
And a cock seeming like a vulture neck
And your face is smoother than the ass of a bitch,
Your legs are virgin of the slightest hair
And not even a shadow is on your colorless lips;
Even if you quote Curius, Camillus,
Quintius, Numa, Ancus,
And all the famous and hairy people
About whom your words and the books are full,
and you throw high and theatrical menaces...
All the same - if amongst all your bragging comes a boy slave
Old enough to be let free from his master
Showing a turgid cock ready to use,
At a glance you take him, and I'll blush to say
What you do with your censor's tongue!
IX. 33
Audieris in quo, Flacce, balneo plausum,
Maronis illic esse mentulam scito.
Flaccus, if you hear a cheer in the baths,
It's for Moronis, passing with his tool...
X. 23
Iam numerat placido felix Antonius aevo
Quindecies actas Primus Olympiadas
Praeteritosque dies et tutos respicet annos
Nec metuit Lethes iam propioris aquas.
Nulla recordanti lux est ingrata gravisque;
Nulla fuit, cuius non meminisse velit.
Ampliat aetatis spatium sibi vir bonus: hoc est
Vivere bis, posse priore frui.
At length, my friend (while time with still career
Wafts on his gentle wing this eighteenth year),
Sees his past days safe out of Fortune's pow'r
Nor dreads approaching fate's uncertain hour;
Reviews his life, and, in the strict survey,
Finds not one moment he could wish away,
Pleas'd with the series of each happy day.
Such, such a man extends his life's short space,
And from the goal again renews the race:
For he lives twice who can at once employ
The present well, and e'en the past enjoy.
(Alexander Pope)
XI. 28
Invasit medici Nasica phreneticus Eucti
et percidit Hylas. Hic, puto, sanus erat.
This nephritic Euctus waiting for his doctor Nasica
Fucks the boy Hylas. For that, I think, he's healthy.
XI. 62
Lesbia se iurat gratis numquam esse fututam,
Verum est. Cum futui vult, numerare solet.
Lesbia swears she was never laid for free.
Quite true, she always pays the fee.
XII. 46
Difficilis facilis, iucundus acerbus es idem:
nec tecum possum vivere nec sine te.
You are difficult and easy. you are pleasant and harsh;
I can't live with you and I can't live without you.
XII. 85
Hoc si, sicut ais, Fabulle, verum est:
Quid tu credis olere cunnilingis?
If those making love with boys have a bad breath, Fabullus,
How do you think is the breath of people licking pussies?
XII. 86
Triginta tibi sunt pueri totidemque puellae:
Una est nec surgit mentula. Quid facies?
You have thirty boys and as much girls -
But you have only one cock, and never hard. How do you manage?
XIV. 210
Morio
Non mendax stupor est nec fingitur arte dolosa.
quisquis plus iusto non sapit, ille sapit.
The Fool
His honest senselessness is not feigned by cunning art.
Who is foolish to excess, is wise.
One more little poem (we couldn't find the Latin original of this one...)
To Diadumenos
"As a wineyard breathes, whose boughs with grapes are bending,
Or garden where are hived Sicanian bees;
As upturned clouds when summer rain's descending
Or orchards rich with blossom-laden trees;
So, cruel youth, thy kisses breathe - so sweet -
Would'st thou but grant me all their grace, complete!"
This seems a very loose paraphrase of Epigrammata XI.8. This is the phrase which most clearly seems to be quoted in the translation: "Sicanias detinet hortus apes". At different times it has been considered good form to "clean up" ancient texts and it is always acceptable to take a theme and develop it as your own.
Go to Martial's page.
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