Carmina

Catullus

Catullus, Gaius Valerius. The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus. Smithers, Leonard Charles, prose translator. London, Printed for the Translators, 1894.

---Her natural modesty detains her: hearing this the more, she weeps because she must go.

Cease your tears. For you there is no peril, Aurunculeia, that any woman more beauteous will ever see the light of day coming from Ocean.

You are like the hyacinth flower, which stands aloft amid varied riches of its master's garden. But you delay, day slips by: advance, new bride.

Advance, new bride, it now seems right, and listen to our speech. See how the torches shake their glittering tresses: advance, new bride.

Nor is your man a fickle husband, given to ill adulteries, seeking shameless acts, ever wishing to lie away from your soft breasts,

But as the lithe vine among neighbouring trees doth cling, so shall he be enclasped in your embrace. But day slips by: advance, new bride.

O nuptial couch which for all---with feet of ivory white.

What joys are coming to your man in fleeting night, in noon of day, let him rejoice! but day slips by: advance, new bride.

Raise high, O boys, the torches: I see the gleaming veil approach. Come, chant in cadence, “O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.”

Nor longer silent is lewd Fescinnine jest, nor, favorite, hearing your master's love has flown, deny the nuts to the boys.

Give nuts to the boys, O listless favorite; long enough have you played nuts: now you must serve Talassius. O favorite, give the nuts!

The country wives were dirt to you, O favorite, but yesterday: now the barber shaves your face. Wretched, wretched favorite, give the nuts.

They will say when the bridegroom has been annointed that you can scarce abstain from your hairless boys: butabstain! O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

We know that these delights were known to you only when lawful: but to the wedded these same no more are lawful. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

You also, bride, what your husband seeks beware of denying, lest he go elsewhere in its search. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look, your husband's home is yours, influential and goodly, allow it to serve you (O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!)

Until white-haired old age, shaking your trembling brow, nods assent to everything. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Bring with good omen your golden feet across the threshold, and go through the polished doorway. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look! your husband alone within, lying on Tyrian couch, all-expectant waits for you. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

No less than in yours, in his breast burns an inmost flame, but more deeply inward. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Release the maiden's slender arm, boy with crimson-bordered toga: now let her approach her husband's couch. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

You good women of fair renown to aged spouses, put the maiden to bed. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

Now you may come, bridegroom: your wife is in the bedroom, with face brightly blushing as white parthenice amid ruddy poppies.

But, bridegroom (so help me the heaven-dwellers) in no way less beautiful are you, nor does Venus slight you. But the day slips by: on! do not delay.

You have not delayed for long, now you are coming. Kindly Venus will help you, since what you desire you take publicly, and do not conceal true love.

Whoever wishes to keep count of your many thousand games, first let him make an accounting of the number of Africa's sands and the glittering stars.

Play as you like, and speedily give heirs. It does not become so old a name to without children, but from similar stock always to be generated.

A little Torquatus I wish, from his mother's lap reaching out his dainty hands, and smiling sweetly at his father with lips apart.

May he be like his father Manlius, and easily acknowledged by every stranger, and by his face point out his mother's faithfulness.

May such praise confirm his birth from true mother, such fame as rests only with Telemachus from best of mothers, Penelope.

Close the doors, virgins: enough we've played. But, fair bride and groom, live you well, and diligently fulfil the office of vigorous youth.