catullus test 2

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 provincia narrat esse bellam? tecum Lesbia nostra comparatur? o saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

43
Hello, girl with neither a little nose,
nor pretty feet, nor little black eyes,
nor long fingers, nor a dry mouth,
nor truly a very refined tongue.
Girlfriend of a bankrupt person of Formiae, 
does the province say that you’re beautiful?
Is our Lesbia compared with you?
O foolish and boorish generation!

Quintia formosa est multis. mihi candida, longa, recta est: haec ego sic singula confiteor. totum illud formosa nego: nam nulla venustas, nulla in tam magno est corpore mica salis. Lesbia formosa est, quae cum pulcherrima tota est, tum omnibus una omnis surripuit Veneres.

86
Quintia is beautiful to many. To me, she is bright, tall and straight: thus I confess each of these things.
I deny that she wholly is “beautiful”: there is no charm,
no grain of salt in such a large body.
Lesbia is beautiful, who not only is very beautiful,
but also she has stolen all the Venuses from everyone.

Passer, deliciae meae puellae, quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere, cui primum digitum dare appetenti et acris solet incitare morsus, cum desiderio meo nitenti carum nescio quid lubet iocari et solaciolum sui doloris, credo ut tum gravis acquiescat ardor: tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem et tristis animi levare curas!

2
Small sparrow, my girls pet,
which she plays with, which she holds in folded in a garment
to whom seeking it, she offers her finger tip
whom she is accustomed to inciting sharp bites
[]
when a little comfort to her pain,
i believe, so that her heavy passion can subside;
If only I were able to play with you just as she does,
and relieve my sad mind’s worries!

Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque, et quantum est hominum venustiorum: passer mortuus est meae puellae, passer, deliciae meae puellae, quem plus illa oculis suis amabat. nam mellitus erat suamque norat ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem, nec sese a gremio illius movebat, sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum illuc, unde negant redire quemquam. at vobis male sit, malae tenebrae Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis: tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis o factum male! o miselle passer! tua nunc opera meae puellae flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

3
Mourn, O venuses and cupids,
and which amount of very arttractive people:
The sparrow of my girl si dead,
sparrow, the delight of my girl,
which she loved more than her own eyes.
If was honey sweet, and knew its owner as well as a girl knows her mother,
nor did he move himself from her lap,
but now jumping around to this place and that
continuously only chirped to its owner;
who now goes through the shadowy journey from where they deny anyone returns
May it go badly for you, evil shadows of Orcus
you who swallow all charming things:
for you have taken away my beautiful sparrow

O evil deed! O wretched sparrow!
Now through your doing, my girl’s swollen little eyes are red from crying

Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus, rumoresque senum severiorum omnes unius aestimemus assis! soles occidere et redire possunt: nobis cum semel occidit brevis 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 invidere possit, cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

5
Let us live and let us love, my Lesbia
Let us value all the rather severe rumors of old men as just one penny
Suns are able to set and rise
once the brief light has set for us, then we ought to sleep a perpetual night

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, then a hundred, then another thousand, then a hundred
then when we’ve made many thousands we will mix them up
Lest we know, or lest some evil person be able to curse us when they know how many kisses there are

Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque. quam magnus numerus Libyssae harenae lasarpiciferis iacet Cyrenis oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum; aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox, furtivos hominum vident amores: tam te basia multa basiare vesano satis et super Catullo est, quae nec pernumerare curiosi possint nec mala fascinare lingua.

7

How many kisses do you ask from me Lesbia?
Let them be enough and more than enough
As many grains of sand that lies between the Oracle of steamy Jupiter and the sacred tomb of ancient Battus to produce Cyrene
as many as the stars that look at the secret affairs of men when night is silent

To kiss you that many kisses is enough for crazy Catullus
which neither the evil men are able to count nor able to curse with their evil tongue.