Thoughts on Antiquity

Latin Scanned
Mĭsēr Cătūllĕ, dēsĭnās ĭnēptīrĕ,
ēt quōd vĭdēs pĕrīssĕ pērdĭtūm dūcās.
Fūlsērĕ quōndăm cāndĭdī tĭbī sōlēs
cūm vēntĭtābās quō pŭēllă dūcēbăt;
ămātă nōbīs quāntum ămābĭtūr nūllă
ĭbi īllă mūltă cūm iŏcōsă fīēbānt,
quaē tū vŏlēbās nēc pŭēllă nōlēbăt.
fūlsērĕ vērĕ cāndĭdī tĭbī sōlēs.

Nūnc iam īllă nōn vōlt. Tū, quŏque, īmpŏtēns nōlī,
nēc quaē fŭgīt sēctārĕ, nēc mĭsēr vīvĕ,
sĕd ōbstĭnātā mēntĕ pērfĕr; ōbdūrā.
Vălē pŭēllă. Iām Cătūllŭs ōbdūrăt.
Nēc tē rĕquīrēt, nēc rŏgābĭt īnvītăm.
Āt tū dŏlēbīs cūm rŏgābĕrīs nūllā.
Scĕlēstă, vaē tē! Quaē tĭbī mănēt vītă?
Quīs nūnc te ădībīt? Cuī vĭdēbĕrīs bēllă?
Quēm nūnc ămābīs? Cūiŭs ēssĕ dīcērĭs?
Quēm bāsĭābīs? Cuī lăbēllă mōrdēbĭs?
Āt tū, Cătūllĕ, dēstĭnātŭs ōbdūrā.

English Translation

Poor Catullus, you should stop playing the fool
And count as lost that which has been lost.
Once the suns shone white for you
When you were going whither the girl was leading,
She who was loved by me as none will ever be loved
When those many delightful things occurred
Which you were wanting, nor was she unwilling.
Truly the suns shone white for you.

Now she no longer wants those times. Powerless, do not want it either,
Neither chase her who flees, nor live as a poor fool,
But suffer with a resolved mind…be strong.
Good-bye, my girl. Now Catullus is strong.
Neither will he seek you, nor will he ask you unwilling.
But you will be sad when you will be asked for not at all.
Oh wicked woman, woe to you! What life remains for you?
Who now will will come to you? To whom will you seem beautiful?
Who will you now love? Whose will you be said to be?
Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite?
But you, Catullus, resolute…be strong.

My Poem

How pitiful you are, Catullus, acting foolishly.
Why do you hope in vain? Can you not see she is lost?
The sun was shining on you brightly
When you chased her merry dances,
That girl loved by you unlike any other!
And oh the impervious delights, so sweet at night,
When the stars were reflected in both your eyes;
Truly you two were blessed.

Now what do you have? You have her no longer,
Nor does she want those memories again; she looks for another.
And you, poor fool, wish for it neither, nor beg her for love past;
Do not live in poverty on her account,
But be strong and perservere.
Good-bye, my girl, for I am now resolute.
I will not seek you any longer, nor will I request your presence.

But you will miss the man who loved you the most,
And when some fellow comes around to try and take your hand,
What will he want? Do you ever think he’ll love you like I did?
Oh poor woman, can he give you the life I was willing to give?
Can he kiss you with the same love I held for you?
Will he be willing to see you as the most beautiful in all the land?
Will he be willing to sacrifice so much for you, for so little in return?
No, Catullus. Perservere. You have to be strong…

Updated to correct a couple of errors. Thanks to Mischa Hooker.