From Gaius Valerius Catullus: 84 BC - 54 BC - Rome's Greatest Lyric Poet


Carmen LXXXV

I hate and I love. Why would I do this...
perhaps you will ask. I don't know,
but I sense it's happening; I'm in agony


Carmen VIII

Wretched Catullus! You have to stop this nonsense,
admit that what you see has ended, is over!
Once there were days which shone for you with rare brightness,
when you would follow wherever your lady led you,
the one we onced loved as we will love no other;
there was no end in those days to our pleasures,
when what you wished for was what she also wanted.
Yes, there were days which shone for you with rare brightness.
Now she no longer wishes; you mustn't want it.
You've got to stop chasing her now-cut your losses,
harden your heart & hold out firmly against her.
Goodbye now, lady. Catullus' heart is hardened,
he will not look to you nor call against your wishes-
How you'll regret it when nobody comes calling


Carmen VI

Your most recent acquisition, Flavius,
must be as unattractive as
doubtless she is unacceptable
or you would have surely told us about her.
You are wrapped up with a whore to end all whores
and ashamed to confess it.
You do not spend bachelor nights.
Your divan, reeking of Syrian unguents,
drapped with bouquets & blossoms etc.
proclaims it,
the pillows & bedclothes indented in several places,
a ceaseless jolting & straining of the framework.
Without more discretion your silence is pointless.
Whoever, whatever she is, good or bad,
tell us, my friend -
Catullus will lift the two of you & your love-
acts into the heavens
in the happiest of his hendecasyllables.


Catullus Carmen XLVII

Porcius and little Socrates, Piso's two
left hand men, blight and bane of the earth--
has that obscene Priapus placed youahead in favor
to my little Veranius and Fabulus?
Do you hold lavish drinking parties with all the finery
in the middle of the day, while my friends
stand on the public streets seeking dinner invitations?


Carmen XIII

You will dine well with me, my dear Fabullus,
in a few days or so, the gods permitting,
-Provided you provide the many-splendored
feast, and invite your fair-complected lady,
your wine, your salt, & all the entertainment!
Which is to say, my dear, if you bring dinner
you will dine well, for these days your Catullus
finds that his purse is only full of cobwebs.
But in return, you'll have from me Love's Essence,
-or what (if anything) is more delicious:
I'll let you sniff a certain charming fragrance
which Venuses & Cupids gave my lady;
one whiff of it, Fabulllus, and you'll beg the
gods to transform you into nose, completely!


Carmen XXVII

Come, boy, you who serve out the old Falernian,
fill up stronger cups for me, as the law of Postumia,
mistress of the revels, ordains,
Postumia, more tipsy than the tipsy grape.
But water, begone, away with you, water,
destruction of wine, and take up your abode
with scrupulous folk:
here is an unadulterated devotee of Bacchus.


Carmen XI

Furius and Aurelius, Catullus' comrades,
Whether he penetrate the ultimate Indies,
Where the rolling surf on the shores of
Morning beats and again beats,
Or in the land of the Bedouin, the soft Arabs
Or Parthians, the ungentlemanly archers,
Or where the Nile with seven similiar streamlets
Colors the clear sea;
Or if he crosses the loftier Alpine passes
And view the monuments of almighty Caesar-
The Rhine, and France, and even those remotest
Shuddersome British -
Friends, prepared for all of these, whatever


Carmen XXII

Varus, you know Suffenus as well as any;
the man is charming, witty, sophisticated-
nevertheless, he's written reams of bad verses.
I'm sure he must have churned out more than ten thousand,
And not just jotted down on scraps of papyrus,
as we do- no, they're copied out on good new rolls
Wound up on ivory, with red parchment wrappers,
lead-ruled, smoothed with pumice: what a grand production!
And when you read his stuff, this darling man,
Our sophisticated Suffenus seems like a perfect
goatsucker, miles away from his urbane brillance.


Carmen XXXVIII

Your Catullus is unwell, Cornificius, unwell, dammit,
terribly unwell, and getting worse every day and hour.
And what would be the lightest and easiest task,
have you said a word to console him?
I'm wild with you. Is this how you treat my love?
Give me only some little word of comfort,
pathetic as the tears of Simonides!


Carmen CVII

If ever anyone anywhere, Lesbia, is looking
for what he knows will not happen
and then unexpectedly it happens-
the soul is astonished,
as we are now in each other,
an event dearer than gold,
for you have restored yourself, Lesbia, desired
restored yourself, longed for, unlooked for,
brought yourself back to me.
White day in the calender!
Who happier than I?
What more can life offer
than the longed for unlooked for event
when it happens?

translated by Peter Whigham


Carmen XXIX

Who can see this? Who can endure it,
except for the depraved, the gluttonous, the gamblers--
Mamurra holding in his possession all the sleek wealth
that Gallia Comata used to have, and that of
furthest Britain?
Pathic Romulus, will you see this and endure it?
And now will that fellow do the rounds of all
the bedrooms, proud and prodigal,
like a white little dove or an Adonis?
Pathic Romulus, will you see this and endure it?
You're depraved, a glutton, and a gambler.
Was it for this, o sole commander,
that you busied yourself on the farthest island
of the setting sun,
that this putz of yours might devour twenty or
thirty million sestertii?
What is misguided generosity but this?
Had he ploughed through too few fortunes?
Not gobbled down enough?
First he demolished his paternal wealth,
then the Pontic plunder; third came that from
Spain--all the riches gold-bearing Tagus knew,
and now there's fear for Gaul and Britain.
Why, dammit, do you cherish this fellow so?
What skills has he got, other than
wolfing down rich patrimonies?
Was it for this, o most pious men of Rome,
father and son-in-law, that you wrought havoc on
the world?


Carmen XLIX


Disertissime Romuli nepotum,
quot sunt quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,
quotque post aliis erunt in annis,
gratias tibi maximas Catullus
agit pesimus omnium poeta,
tanto pessimus omnium poeta
quanto tu optimus ominum's patronus.

You are the best orator, Marcus Tullius,
there is or ever was among the Romans,
the best orator they ever will have.
Catullus tenders you his warmest thanks,
Catullus, who is the worst of all poets
-As much the worst of all poets
as you are the best of all orators.

translated by C.H.Sisson


Carmen CI

Driven across many nations, across many oceans,
I am here, my brother, for this final parting,
To offer at last those gifts which the dead are given
and to speak in vain to your unspeaking ashes,
Since bitter fortune forbids you to hear me or answer,
Oh my wretched brother, so abruptly taken!
But now I must celebrate grief with funeral tributes
offered the dead in the ancient way of the fathers;
accept these presents, wet with my brotherly tears, and
now & forever, my brother, hail & farewell.

Translated by Charles Martin