LTLA 100 - Ovid + Catullus Translation

Cvi dono lepidum novum libellum arido modo pumice expolitum?

For whom do I give this charming, new little book, just polished with a dry pumice?

Corneli, tibi: namque tu solebas meas esse aliquid putare nugas, iam tum cum ausus es unus Italorum omne aevum tribus explicare chartis doctis, Iuppiter, et laboriosis.

To you, Cornelius: for you were accustomed to think my trifles to be something, even then, when you, one alone of the Italians, dared to explain all time with three learned writings, Jupiter, and laborious.

quare habe tibi quicquid hoc libelli, qualecumque; quod, o patrona virgo, plus uno maneat perenne saeclo.

Therefore have this little book for you, whatever it is and whatever kind; because, o virgin patroness, may it remain through more than one generation.

Arma gravi numero violentaque bella parabam edere, materia conveniente modis.

I was preparing to tell with heavy meter of arms and violent wars, with the material agreeing the method.

Par erat inferior versus; risisse Cupido dicitur ataque unum surripuisse pedem.

The inferior verse was equal; Cupid is said to have laughed and to have snatched away one foot. 

Quis tibi, saeve puer, dedit hoc in carmina iuris?

Who gave to you, cruel boy, this authority in poetry?

Pieridum vates, non tua, turba sumus.

We are a crowd of poets of the Muses, not yours.

Quid, si praeripiat flavae Venus arma Minervae, ventilet accensas flava Minerva faces?

What, if Venus would snatch the arms of blonde Minerva, if blonde Minerva would fan the kindled torches?

Quis probet in silvis Cererem regnare iugosis, lege pharetratae virginis arva coli?

Who would accept that Ceres reigns in the hilly woods, that the fields were tilled by the law of a quivered virgin?

Crinibus insignem quis acuta cuspide Phoebum instruat, Aoniam Marte movente lyram?

Who would equip Phoebus, remarkable by his hair, with a sharp point, with Mars moving an Aonian lyre?

Sunt tibi magna, puer, nimiumque potentia regna: cur opus adfectas ambitiose novum?

There are big kingdoms for you, boy, and too much power: why do you take on new work ambitiously?

An, quod ubique, tuum est? Tua sunt Heliconia tempe?

Or, is that which is everywhere yours? The Heliconian valleys are yours?

Vix etiam Phoebo iam lyra tuta sua est?

Even now for Phoebus, his own lyre is scarcely safe?

Cum bene surrexit versu nova pagina primo, attenuat nervos proximus ille meos. 

The new page rose well with the first line, that next one weakens my nerves.

Nec mihi materia est numeris lebioribus apta, aut puer aut longas compta puella comas.

Neither the material with light meter is suitable for me, nor a boy nor girl with arranged, long hair.

Questus eram, pharetra cum protinus ille soluta legit in exitium spicula facta meum lunavitque genu sinuosum fortiter arcum “quod” que “canas, vates, accipe” dixit “opus.”

I had complained, when that guy collected from the loosened quiver, an arrow having been made for the purpose of my demise and bent it strongly into an arc with his knee and said “poet, accept this work, which you may sing.”

Me miserum! Certas habuit puer ille sagittas: uror, et in vacuo pectore regnat Amor.

Miserable me! That boy had certain arrows; I burn, and in my empty chest reigns love. 

Sex mihi surgat opus numeris, in quinque residat; ferrea cum vestris bella valete modis.

The work may rise for me in six measures, and may settle in five; goodbye iron wars, with your meters. 

Cingere litorea flaventia tempora myrto, Musa per undenos emodulanda pedes.

Encircle your seaside, golden temples with myrtle, Muse, measuring by eleven feet at a time.