V. ad Lesbiam

VIVAMUS mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum seueriorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit breuis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus inuidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

VI. ad Flauium

FLAVI, delicias tuas Catullo,
ni sint illepidae atque inelegantes,
uelles dicere nec tacere posses.
uerum nescio quid febriculosi
scorti diligis: hoc pudet fateri.
nam te non uiduas iacere noctes
nequiquam tacitum cubile clamat
sertis ac Syrio fragrans oliuo,
puluinusque peraeque et hic et ille
attritus, tremulique quassa lecti
argutatio inambulatioque.
nam inista preualet nihil tacere.
cur? non tam latera ecfututa pandas,
ni tu quid facias ineptiarum.
quare, quidquid habes boni malique,
dic nobis. uolo te ac tuos amores
ad caelum lepido uocare uersu.

XIII. ad Fabullum

CENABIS bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
paucis, si tibi di fauent, diebus,
si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cenam, non sine candida puella
et uino et sale et omnibus cachinnis.
haec si, inquam, attuleris, uenuste noster,
cenabis bene; nam tui Catulli
plenus sacculus est aranearum.
sed contra accipies meros amores
seu quid suauius elegantiusue est:
nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae
donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque,
quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis,
totum ut te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

XXXII. ad Ipsicillam

AMABO, mea dulcis Ipsitilla,
meae deliciae, mei lepores,
iube ad te ueniam meridiatum.
et si iusseris, illud adiuuato,
ne quis liminis obseret tabellam,
neu tibi lubeat foras abire,
sed domi maneas paresque nobis
nouem continuas fututiones.
uerum si quid ages, statim iubeto:
nam pransus iaceo et satur supinus
pertundo tunicamque palliumque.

XXXVII. ad contubernales et Egnatium

SALAX taberna uosque contubernales,
a pilleatis nona fratribus pila,
solis putatis esse mentulas uobis,
solis licere, quidquid est puellarum,
confutuere et putare ceteros hircos?
an, continenter quod sedetis insulsi
centum an ducenti, non putatis ausurum
me una ducentos irrumare sessores?
atqui putate: namque totius uobis
frontem tabernae sopionibus scribam.
puella nam mi, quae meo sinu fugit,
amata tantum quantum amabitur nulla,
pro qua mihi sunt magna bella pugnata,
consedit istic. hanc boni beatique
omnes amatis, et quidem, quod indignum est,
omnes pusilli et semitarii moechi;
tu praeter omnes une de capillatis,
cuniculosae Celtiberiae fili,
Egnati. opaca quem bonum facit barba
et dens Hibera defricatus urina.

XLIII. ad Ameanam

SALVE, nec minimo puella naso
nec bello pede nec nigris ocellis
nec longis digitis nec ore sicco
nec sane nimis elegante lingua,
decoctoris amica Formiani.
ten prouincia narrat esse bellam?
tecum Lesbia nostra comparatur?
o saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

LV. ad Camerium

ORAMVS, si forte non molestum est,
demonstres ubi sint tuae tenebrae.
te Campo quaesiuimus minore,
te in Circo, te in omnibus libellis,
te in templo summi Iouis sacrato.
in Magni simul ambulatione
femellas omnes, amice, prendi,
quas uultu uidi tamen sereno.
auelte, sic ipse flagitabam,
Camerium mihi pessimae puellae.
quaedam inquit, nudum reduc...
'en hic in roseis latet papillis.'
sed te iam ferre Herculi labos est;
tanto te in fastu negas, amice.
dic nobis ubi sis futurus, ede
audacter, committe, crede luci.
nunc te lacteolae tenent puellae?
si linguam clauso tenes in ore,
fructus proicies amoris omnes.
uerbosa gaudet Venus loquella.
uel, si uis, licet obseres palatum,
dum uestri sim particeps amoris.

LXX.

NVLLI se dicit mulier mea nubere malle
quam mihi, non si se Iuppiter ipse petat.
dicit: sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti,
in uento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.

LXXXV.

ODI et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

CVI.

CVM puero bello praeconem qui uidet esse,
quid credat, nisi se uendere discupere?

CIX. ad Lesbiam

IVCVNDVM, mea uita, mihi proponis amorem
hunc nostrum inter nos perpetuumque fore.
di magni, facite ut uere promittere possit,
atque id sincere dicat et ex animo,
ut liceat nobis tota perducere uita
aeternum hoc sanctae foedus amicitiae.

Dedicated to Rebecca Resinski

5

Survive my love and let us love
The rumors of senile senior citizens,
All their judgments worth a penny.
Copper suns rise and set again
While we will die after our one light
As perpetual night gathers us in sleep.
Let’s make kisses, 10³ and then again,
Confusing each other and what we know
And dark-eyed boys filled with jealousy
For this and all our trysts.

6

Flavius, your new favorite will come between us—
And since you won’t say her name
(Is she that ugly?)
I will pluck her from your lips.
Why does she cause you such fever?
Your bed is not silent, shot through
With the scent of Syrian oils and cypress,
Your two worn pillows laid side by side—
You cannot hide your secrets from me.
So spread your legs. Good friends
Hold in common everything, the good and the bad.
Let my verse remove all disgrace. I
Sing her and you and I into song.

13

Dine cheaply, my friend, at my home,
In a few days, if the gods will bring you,
And if you bring a healthy-sized
Meal, and a picture-perfect girl,
And some wine and your salty wit
And your laughter.
If you bring all this, my sweet friend,
Our dinner will be cheap.
For nothing but cobwebs fill your Catullus’
Tight purse. If you come, you will hold
In your hands my bare, pure love
Sheer as wine and taste
Suave elegance—the fragrance
Of the deities of sex,
And when you inhale, ask the gods
To transform you into nothing but nose.

32

I will love you, my luscious,
You and your charms.
So when you let me use you
Let no entrance, no words,
Be barred between us.
If you want, stay at home
And prepare the dining room
Table for nine
Continuous consummations.
If you get any urge at all,
Call me at once for I am full.
My swollen cock thrusts
Through, waiting for you.

37

Nine lights past the statue of Castor and Pollux,
A strip club full of bar flies. 
“Do you think that you alone have cocks?
To fuck these girls
And to think other men goats?
Or—because you all—10²—sit—stupid—in line—
Do you not think that I wouldn’t dare
To force all you to suck me off?
Just think it and I will paint
The face of your club with dick.
For my girl, who has fled from me,
Loved as much as no woman will be loved,
For whom I have fought great wars,
And whom you have paid for lap dances
Has been loved by you all: you with the tiny prick,
You, the married guy, and you, Iggy,
With your long hair and your rock-and-roll.
Your dark beard hides your true face
And your teeth, teeth you clean with piss.”

43

Greetings! Girl. No small nose,
No pretty feet, no dark eyes,
No thin fingers, no clear complexion,
Not even reasonably refined speech,
And the whore of bankrupt men.
You, the city tells us, are pretty?
You they compare to Lesbia?
Oh tasteless age of uncouth shitheads.

55

Where are you hiding?
I’ve sought you out on campus,
In the town circle, in the bookstore,
In the mountains shrouded in Jove’s
Thunderheads. And when I visit
Broadway, I ask
“Where is she?” and am met
With a blank stare and bared breasts.
“Here she is,” says one blond
Rubbing the flowers of her nipples,
“Find her here.” A labor for Hercules,
I think, to endure your absence.
Not that I should be bronzed
Like the Master of Crete, or the statue
Of Ladas, or even wing-footed
Perseus but I would if I could
Take flight like airy Pegasus
Or muse-born Rhesus’ dark horses,
Or like the winged wind of god and goddess
And overtake you. Your absence
Is a kind of arrogance—if you offend
I am pleased. Tell me where you are,
Tell me where you will be, and when.
Speak up, a little daylight, please,
Bare your breast. Trust me.
Even while I sleep I am worn
Through seeking you out in my dreams.
I dream you are the slave
Of a harem of milk-white girls.
Have they imprisoned you there?
Unlock your lips, let loose your tongue,
Venus’ songs do not give pleasure
To silent kisses. Keep it from others
If you must, but share with me
Your dirty little secrets.

70

No one, says my mistress, would she prefer
To me, even if the greatest of gods wanted her.
So she says,
But what an eager woman says to her lover
Is piss in the wind.

85

I love, hate, hate love
burn and burn until
I’m nothing but verb.

106

When such a fine young queer
Takes the hand of the auctioneer,
He’s for sale to the biggest bidder.

109

You propose, my sweet,
Perpetual love...
Gods, secure her promise,
Make true her words:
Sincere and inspired.
Give us license
For an eternal contract—
Permit this sacred friendship.