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| ISBN-13: | 9781847774934 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Carcanet Press, Limited |
| Publication date: | 12/01/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 144 |
| File size: | 300 KB |
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Carmina
By Gaius Valerius Catullus, Len Krisak
Carcanet Press Ltd
Copyright © 2014 Len KrisakAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-84777-495-8
CHAPTER 1
Carmina
I
This slender scroll of verse my pumice stone
Has polished off just now, I send to none
But you, Cornelius, for you're the one
Who thought my nothings somethings way back
when,
When only you, in all of Italy, 5
Had dared to write three hard-won, learnèd tomes
Teaching – by Jupiter! – our history, Rome's.
So take this chapbook; take it for your own.
For what it's worth – or is – Muse, let it then
Outlive more than one life through all its poems. 10
I.3,Cornelius: Cornelius Nepos (110–24 BC), Roman historian and friend of Cicero.
II
Sparrow, my beloved girl's delight;
The one she holds and plays with in her lap;
The hungry pet she gives her fingertip
(And often teases so it takes a nip
When it might please her glowing heart's desire 5
To make some small, inconsequential jape
That eases sadness by your little bite,
I think, and tamp a bit her passion's fire):
I only wish that I, like her, could play
With you, and drive my heart-deep cares away. 10
II.1,Sparrow: a possible pun on penis.
IIB
This pleases me the way the stories say
The golden apple pleased that sprinting girl,
Slackening her long-tied belt, which fell away.
IIb.2,that sprinting girl: Atalanta, who offered to marry any prospective suitor who could best her in a footrace. By dropping golden apples in her path, Milanion (sometimes Hippomedon) succeeded.
III
O Venuses and Cupids, weep your sorrow.
And anyone in love with beauty, weep.
The sparrow of my dearest girl lies dead:
The darling of my darling girl; her sparrow.
She always loved it more than her own eyes, 5
Since it was sweet, and it would recognise
Her like a girl who knows her very mother.
He wasn't apt to leave her lap or keep
Away, but hopping here and there, would cheep
Away to please his mistress – and no other. 10
Now he goes that umbrous road of dread
No one returns from; where there's no tomorrow.
I curse you, Orcus, every cursèd shade,
Devouring all the beauty ever made
And stealing from me such a lovely sparrow. 15
Oh, evil deed! O wretched passerine!
The wrong you've done this darling girl of mine
Has left her dear, dear eyes all swollen red.
III.13,Orcus: god of the underworld, sometimes Hades or Dis.
IV
That's my last yacht you see there, friends. And
she would tell
You, if she were alive, she was the fastest ship
Afloat; that nothing timber-crafted could outstrip
Her then. Oh, she could fly when she was under
sail,
Or outrun anything relying on its oars – 5
A truth the worst of all the Adriatic shores
Couldn't deny. No island in the Cyclades,
Not famous Rhodes, or Thrace with its Propontic
seas.
Nor could the Pontic's dismal gulf, where she – a
yacht-
In-waiting – once was just a clutch of verdant trees. 10
(For on Cytorus' heights, there in that sylvan spot,
She whispered with the sibilance of silken leaves.)
Pontic Amastris and you, boxwood-clad Cytorus:
She says you knew this then and know it now as
well.
She says that long before her birth – this is her tale – 15
She masted there atop your highest peak, then
dipped
The blades that came from those tall slopes, deep
in your waves.
From there, she brought her master through seas
like no others,
Whether the port or starboard winds called, or,
together
All at once, fair Jupiter, with favouring weather, 20
Was blowing on the stern-sheets. For that vessel's
sake,
We never prayed to any gods ashore back then,
When she came sailing from far waters where
she'd been
And won her way on through, right to this crystal
lake.
But that was then. She rests in her last dry dock now, 25
A dedicated, model craft that's made one vow:
To Castor and to Castor's twin, the sea's twin
brothers.
IV.8,Propontic: of the Sea of Azov, between the Hellespont and the Black Sea.
IV.9,Pontic: the Black (Euxine) Sea.
IV.11,Cytorus: a Black Sea town with mountains nearby.
IV.27,Castor, Castor's twin: Castor and Pollux, brothers of Helen and patrons of sailors.
V
Let's live, my Lesbia. And let us love.
Let's treat what all the sniping old men say
As jealous gossip not worth thinking of.
Suns may set (and rise again each day);
Once our brief light at last has died away, 5
Unending night is ours, through which to slumber.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
Then another thousand, then a second
Hundred, then a thousand, then a hundred
More. Then when our thousands make a number 10
So jumbled up they never can be reckoned,
There'll be no evil eye to hide them from.
For hate-filled men will blanch to see the sum.
VI
You'd want to tell Catullus, wouldn't you,
Flavius, who your lover was, if she
Weren't déclassée? But silence just won't do,
Because you love some febrile whore. I know
It, but you're too ashamed to say it's so. 5
You're not alone at night. This secrecy
Is pointless when your bed screams how you sleep.
(A bed of garlands, Syrian perfume,
And pillows heads have pressed equally deep.
A bed so shaky you would swear it's broken 10
As it shudders, creakingly outspoken.)
It just won't help, this pose that you assume
Of silence. Why? You'd show no screwed-out thighs
If you weren't doing so much stupid screwing.
So, good or bad, whomever you've been doing, 15
Tell us! Whom should my verse catasterise?
Its charms will win you – and your love – the skies.
VI.2,Flavius: we can only speculate as to who this friend of Catullus's might be.
VII
How many kisses, Lesbia? You ask
What sum would be enough – and more – for me?
In silphium-rich Cyrene, make your task
To count the grains of Libyan sand that lie
Between the oracle of fiery Jove 5
And ancient Battus' sacred tomb. My love,
Your kisses ought to match the stars on high
When silent night is still – the stars that see
Men's secret loves. When all your kisses add
To that, then your Catullus, driven mad, 10
Has had enough – more than those spies can
count,
Or vile tongues curse. Make that our kiss amount.
VII.3,silphium-rich Cyrene: a north African city noted for a resinous plant used in cooking and medicine.
VII.6,Battus: the legendary king of Cyrene.
VIII
Catullus, you're a fool to bear such misery.
Just let her go, the girl who led you here. The sun
Was shining on you once, back then, when you
were one
Who used to follow where she led you on. Oh, she
Was loved by you the way no other girl will be ... 5
Back then. There were so many fine things being
done –
Things that you wanted. You were willing, she not
un-.
The sun was shining on you once, back then, it's
true.
But now she doesn't want those fine things ... nor
should you.
You call yourself a man, to chase what runs away? 10
Make up your mind; stand firm; be hard. It's time
to say,
'Good-bye, love. Here on in, my heart is made of
stone.
You don't want me? Then I won't beg. You're on
your own.
But you'll be sorry when men leave you all alone,
You bitch! And how much longer do you think 15
you'll live?
Who'll chase you then? Who'll want that face you
want to give?
And who will love you? Who will call you his? What
lip
Will taste that kiss that loves to give a little nip?'
Catullus, be a rock. And get a rock-hard grip.
IX
Veranius, of all my friends the best,
Three hundred miles ahead of all the rest,
Have you come home to your Penates? To
Your agèd mother and those brothers who
Think just like you? You have? Terrific news! 5
It means you're safe – that I can hear your views
On each Hibernian tribe, event, and place,
In that fine style of yours. Then I'll embrace
You, kiss your eyes, and kiss that smiling face.
Of all earth's happy men, how many of them 10
Surpass me, happier than any of them?
IX.1,Veranius: about all we know is that he was a friend of Catullus.
X
Finding me idling in the Forum, Varus
Took me to see his girl – a little hooker,
It seemed at first, but then not really all
That cheap, and really not that bad a looker.
Well, when we met, it turned out that the small 5
Talk, out of lots of other things it could
Do, fell Bithynia's way: how matters stood
There now, and had it done me any good
Financially. I told her what was true:
There was no way for praetors or their crew 10
To come back home with extra revenue,
Especially when that praetor was a shit
Who cared about his cohort not one bit.
'But even so,' they said, 'you surely must
Have bought some litter-bearers, who are just 15
The thing Bithynia's known for?' Well, so she
Would think I'd been one of the lucky few,
I said, 'It wasn't all a loss for me.
Although I got a useless province, still,
I managed to acquire eight good men.' 20
Truth was, I hadn't one – not here or there –
With strength enough to fill a portering bill
Or hoist an ancient camp bed's broken leg.
At this, the brazen slut began to beg,
'My dear Catullus, since I have a yen 25
For Serapis's shrine, lend me a chair-
And-eight.' 'Wait. Wait,' I told her. 'When I said
Just now that they were mine, I meant instead
That Cinna – Gaius Cinna (he's my friend) –
Had bought them. What's the difference in the end 30
Though, his or mine? I use them just the same.
But you! You're just a pain – a stupid dame
Playing Ms. Lawyer, trying to embarrass.'
X.1,Varus: either a literary critic (Quintilius Varus) or a friend of Catullus (Alfenus Varus).
X.7,Bithynia: a Roman province in northwest Turkey, on the southern coast of the Black Sea.
X.26,Serapis: an Egyptian deity partnered with Isis. His temple in Rome was near the Campus Martius.
X.29,Cinna – Gaius Cinna: Gaius Helvius Cinna, neoteric poet and author of the epic Zmyrna. We do not know his birth and death dates.
XI
Furius and Aurelius, Catullus' good friends,
Even should he travel to India's far ends,
Where the shore is hammered by pounding thunder –
Eastern waves breaking –
Or Hyrcania, or to the soft Arabians, 5
Or the quivered Parthians, or far Sacians,
Or to where the Nile mouths, in seven foldings
Colour the waters,
Or to where the Alps loom in all their great heights,
Just to see where Caesar won all his great fights, 10
Where the Gallic Rhine flows, or where the far-
flung
Britons are savage;
All of this, whatever the heavens will bring,
Ready always, passing each test – anything –
Give my dear this message, in just these few words, 15
Bitter and telling:
Let her live and thrive on adulterous men,
All three hundred, screwing again and again,
Loving no one truly, and all in one screw,
Breaking their blue balls; 20
Never knowing love as it was yesterday.
With her crime, she killed it – done in the same
way
Colters kill: the flower at field's edge will die
At the plough's passing.
XI.1,Furius and Aurelius: neither of these two friends of Catullus can be identified with any certainty.
XI.5,Hyrcania: on the southern shore of the Caspian Sea.
XI.6,Sacians: inhabitants of eastern Persia.
XII
Asinius Marrucinus, what your left
Hand did while we were laughing in our drinking,
Is vile – to steal unguarded napkins! Theft
Is never clever, and if you'd been thinking,
You'd know that was a cheap and stupid trick. 5
You don't believe me, eh? Believe your brother
Pollio, then. He'd gladly pay a whole
Talent to stop your thieving. (He's the soul
Of charm, that boy; he's witty, fine, and quick.)
So send my napkins back or face another 10
Three-hundred lines – hendecasyllables.
It's not the napkins' cost; they're valuables
Because they're gifts. Veranius and Fabullus
Sent that linen, which is Saetaban,
The finest of the best Iberian. 15
That means without them I would be bereft –
As if I'd lost Fabullus and Veranius.
XII.1,Asinius Marrucinus: the asinine, joke-playing brother of the major literary figure (and friend of both Virgil and Horace) Gaius Asinius Pollio.
XII.13,Fabullus: almost nothing is known about this friend of Catullus.
XII.14,Saetaban: Saetabis, on the southern coast of Spain, was noted for its linen.
XIII
At my place – soon, Fabullus – you'll have dined
Deliciously. That's if the gods are kind
To you and if you bring good food along ...
And plenty of it. Don't forget a charming
Girl either – or your wine and wit and song- 5
Like laughter. Bring me everything disarming,
Friend, and you'll dine well. You could do worse,
For spiders have been stringing in my purse.
But come, and in return, accept love neat, or
Something even finer, even sweeter: 10
For I'll give you a perfume so refined –
A gift the Venuses and Cupids chose
To give my girl – that when you've finally sniffed
Its scent, Fabullus, you will beg this gift:
To have the gods make you one giant nose. 15
XIV
It's good I love you more than my own eyes,
Calvus. Your smart-ass present, otherwise,
Would make me hate you with Vatinian hate:
What did I do, what did I say of late
To earn from you this literary ... prize? 5
I hope the gods will send that client curses
Who gave you all these miserable verses.
But if, as I suspect, these gifts are Sulla's,
That teacher prone to hot discoveries,
Then I don't mind. I'm glad to see your time 10
Hasn't been wasted, or your energies.
But God, this chapbook's a poetic crime,
So naturally you sent it to Catullus
Just to see me die from reading it
At Saturnalia, the best of days! 15
You'll never get away with such dumb shit,
You wiseguy. No! For at the sun's first rays,
I'm running to the stalls for Caesius,
Aquinus, and Suffenus Poisonous,
To pay you back. My suffering's been outrageous! 20
Meanwhile, get lost, scram, beat it, disappear,
And take the crappy feet that brought you here,
The world's worst poets – worst of all the ages.
XIV.2,Calvus: Gaius Licinius Macer Calvus (82–47? BC), a neoteric poet and close friend of Catullus.
XIV.3,Vatinian hate: Publius Vatinius was a rabid supporter of Julius Caesar and was prosecuted for corruption by Catullus's friend Calvus. We do not know his exact birth and death dates.
XIV.8,Sulla: he remains unknown.
XIV.18–19,Caesius, Aquinus, and Suffenus Poisonous: these three unfortunates are poets whose identities remain unknown. 'Poisonous' is not, of course, the last-named poet's cognomen, but my little joke, given the venena in line 19 of the Latin text.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Carmina by Gaius Valerius Catullus, Len Krisak. Copyright © 2014 Len Krisak. Excerpted by permission of Carcanet Press Ltd.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Title Page,Dedication,
Acknowledgements,
Introduction,
Carmina,
About the Author,
Copyright,