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ANCIENT: Propertius Sappho

Catullus

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Catullus 16

"I will fuck you in the ass and throat-rape you."

2

Sparrow, the delight of my girl,
with whom to play, whom to hold on her lap,
to whom greedy to give her finger tip,
and to arouse sharp pecks, she is accustomed

when it pleases her shining with my desires,
to make some dear joke
her own pain's solace

so that heavy passion is relieved, I believe.
I wish I could play with you as she herself has done,
and to lift the sad cares of the mind.

2B

It is as pleasing to me as they say
the golden apple was to the swift girl
which untied a girdle bound for a long time.

3

Mourn, O Venuses and Cupids
And however many people are rather caught up with Venus:

My girl's sparrow is dead—
The sparrow, delight of my girl,
Whom that girl loved more than her own eyes.

For he was honey-sweet and had known
Her better than the girl knew her own mother,
And did not move himself from that girl's lap,
But, hopping around, now here, now there,

Nor would he move himself form her lap,
but hopping around this way and chirp constantly to his mistress alone;
he who now goes through that shadowy journey form whence they say that no one returns.

But curse on you, evil shadows of hell,
who devour all beautiful things.

You have taken away form me so beautiful a sparrow.
Oh evil deed! Oh wretched little sparrow!
Now through your deeds the eyes of my girl are red and swollen with weeping.

5

May we live, my Lesbia, and may we love,
And may we value the rumors of rather
strict old men at one coin,

Suns are able to fall and to return,
when once and for all the brief light falls,
one perpetual night must be slept by us.

Give to me one thousand kisses, then one hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then continually another thousand, then one hundred.

Then, when we will have made many thousands,
we will mix them up, those kisses, lest we should know,
or so that not anyone bad should be able to be jealous,
when he knows that there is so much of the kisses.

8

Miserable Catullus, stop being inept, and that which you see to have perished and that which you lead to destruction. Bright suns formerly glittered for you, when you came often to where the girl was leading—beloved by us as no girl will be loved. There were many playful experiences, which you wanted and the girl did not not want: truly bright suns glittered for you. But now she does not want them; you also, don't be impotent, and don't follow she who flees, nor live miserably, but remain of strong mind, and be strong. Goodbye, girl. Now Catullus is strong, and he neither requires you nor will ask for an invitation. But you will be sad, when nobody will have asked. Woe to you, wicked one! Which life will stay with you? Who now will go to you? To whom will you seem beautiful? Whom will you now love? Whose will you be said to be? Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you nibble? But you, Catullus, remain strong.

10

My Varus had led me to his love
From the forum at leisure to see
A dear little whore, as it seemed to me then at first glance,
Not, admittedly, without charm or beauty.

When we came to this place, various conversations
Fell on us: in which, what was
Now Bithynia; how it held itself;
And by what kind of money it had profited me.

I responded with that which was:

that there was no reason, neither for themselves
Nor for the praetors nor the cohort,
Why anyone should return enriched,
Especially for those to whom the praetor was a cocksucker
And was not considering the cohort to be worth a hair.

"But surely at the same time," they said, "that which
Is said to have been born there, you have obtained
For the purpose of people carrying a litter." I, that for the girl
I might make myself out to be a rather fortunate one,
Said, "I did not make out so badly
That, just because a bad province had fallen on me,
I was not able to purchase eight tall men."

But I had no one, neither here nor there,
Who the broken foot of an old cot
Was able to place on his neck himself.

Here, that girl, as befitted a rather shameless slut,
Said, "Please, my Catullus, lend me a few of those litter-bearers
Of yours, for I want to be carried down to the temple of Serapis."

"Wait," I said to the girl,
"That which I said that I had just now,
Reason fled me; my companion—
He is Gaius Cinna—he purchased them.

But, whether the litter-bearers are his or mine, what's it to me?
I use them as well as if I had purchased them for myself.

But you are being a very tasteless and annoying girl,
For whom it is not permitted to be careless."

11

Furius and Aurelius, friends of Catullus,
Whether it will enter among the distant Indians,
Where the shore far and wide by a resounding eastern
Wave is struck,
Or among the Hyrcanians or the soft Arabians
Or among the Sacae or the arrow-bearing Parthians
Or among the waters which
The seven-fold Nile colors,
Or whether he walks across the high Alps,
Seeing the monuments of great Caesar,
The rough Gallic Rhine water and the distant British,
All these things, whatever the will
Of the heaven-dwellers should bear, prepared to try together,
Announce to my girl a few
Not-good words.

May she live and fare well with her adulterers,
Three hundred of whom she holds in an embrace at the same time,
Truly loving none, but again and again all of their
Groins bursting.

Let her not await, as before, my love,
Which has fallen due to her infidelity, just like
A flower of the furthest end of the meadow, after
It has been touched by a passing plow.

13

You will dine well, my Fabullus, at my house in a few days (if the gods favor you), and if you bring with you a great and good dinner, not without a white girl and wine and wit and laughs for all. I say: if you bring these, our charming one, you will dine well—for the little purse of your Catullus is full of cobwebs. But in return you will receive wonderous love (or something that is more elegant and more delightful): for I will give you an oil, which the Venuses and Cupids gave to my girl, and when you smell it, you will ask the gods to make you all nose, Fabullus.

16

I will fuck you in the ass and throat-rape you.

Kinky Aurelius and bottom-man Furius,
You who think that I'm a pussy
Because of my delicate verses.

It's right for the devoted poet to be chaste
Himself, but it's not necessary for his verses to be so.

Verses which then have taste and charm,
If they are delicate and sexy,
And when they can incite an itch,
And I don't mean in boys, but in those hairy old men
Who can't get their flaccid dicks up.

You, because you have read of my thousand kisses,
You think I'm a pussy?

I will fuck you like a boy and throat-rape you.

96

If anything pleasing or acceptable to the silent sepulchers is able to be done by our grief, Calvus, by this longing we renew old loves and we lament and sent away friendships. Certainly a premature death is not of such sadness to Quintilia, so much as she rejoices in your love.

109

You promise to me, my life, that this love
of ours will be pleasant and everlasting between us.
Great gods, make it that she is able to promise truly,
And that she speaks sincerely and from her heart,
That we might be allowed to lead through
Our whole life this eternal pact of holy friendship.