Catullus 94-99

Original Latin

XCIV. ad Mentulam

Mentula moechatur. Moechatur mentula? Certe.

Hoc est quod dicunt: ipsa olera olla legit.

XCV. ad Gaium Helvium Cinnam

Zmyrna mei Cinnae nonam post denique messem

quam coepta est nonamque edita post hiemem,

milia cum interea quingenta Hortensius uno

* * * * * * * *

Zmyrna cavas Satrachi penitus mittetur ad undas,

Zmyrnam cana diu saecula pervoluent.

at Volusi annales Paduam morientur ad ipsam

et laxas scombris saepe dabunt tunicas.

XCVb.

Parva mei mihi sint cordi monimenta ...,

at populus tumido gaudeat Antimacho.

XCVI. ad Gaium Licinium Calvum

Si quicquam mutis gratum acceptumque sepulcris

accidere a nostro, Calve, dolore potest,

quo desiderio veteres renovamus amores

atque olim missas flemus amicitias,

certe non tanto mors immatura dolori est

Qvintiliae, quantum gaudet amore tuo.

XCVII. ad Aemilium

Non (ita me di ament) quicquam referre putavi,

utrumne os an culum olfacerem Aemilio.

nilo mundius hoc, nihiloque immundius illud,

verum etiam culus mundior et melior:

nam sine dentibus est. hic dentis sesquipedalis,

gingivas vero ploxeni habet veteris,

praeterea rictum qualem diffissus in aestu

meientis mulae cunnus habere solet.

hic futuit multas et se facit esse venustum,

et non pistrino traditur atque asino?

quem siqua attingit, non illam posse putemus

aegroti culum lingere carnificis?

XCVIII. ad Victium

In te, si in quemquam, dici pote, putide Victi,

id quod verbosis dicitur et fatuis.

ista cum lingua, si usus veniat tibi, possis

culos et crepidas lingere carpatinas.

si nos omnino vis omnes perdere, Victi,

hiscas: omnino quod cupis efficies.

XCIX. ad Iuventium

Surripui tibi, dum ludis, mellite Iuventi,

suaviolum dulci dulcius ambrosia.

verum id non impune tuli: namque amplius horam

suffixum in summa me memini esse cruce,

dum tibi me purgo nec possum fletibus ullis

tantillum vestrae demere saevitiae.

nam simul id factum est, multis diluta labella

guttis abstersisti omnibus articulis,

ne quicquam nostro contractum ex ore maneret,

tamquam commictae spurca saliva lupae.

praeterea infesto miserum me tradere amori

non cessasti omnique excruciare modo,

ut mi ex ambrosia mutatum iam foret illud

suaviolum tristi tristius elleboro.

quam quoniam poenam misero proponis amori,

numquam iam posthac basia surripiam.

My Translation

Catullus 94: It Comes Naturally 

Mentula “the Cock” sleeps around–

of course!

That’s what they mean when they say the 

pot picks its own vegetables. 

Catullus 95: Quality Over Quantity

My Cinna’s Smyrna has, at last, 

been published, 

nine harvest and winters after he began writing!

Meanwhile, Hatria churns out, 

in one single year,

five hundred thousand lines…

But Smyrna will be sent to the deep waters of the Satrachus–

for so many white-haired centuries, 

it will continue to be unrolled! 

But the Volusian annals?

They will die at Padua itself – 

serving as a mackerel wrapper. 

Let my friend’s little triumph be dear to me–

the masses can delight in bloated Antimachus. 

Catullus 96: After Death 

If anything can reach beyond

the silent grave, Calvus,

pleasing and comforting,

 from our grief– 

grief with which we, yearning, 

revive old loves and 

weep for long lost friendships– 

if there is anything, 

then surely Quintilia is not upset 

about her early death, but instead

grateful for your love. 

Catullus 97: A Disgusting Man 

I never thought (may the gods bless me) it mattered 

whether I sniffed Aemilius’s mouth or ass. 

After all, the former’s not cleaner, 

nor the latter dirtier – 

in fact, the ass is cleaner and better! 

(It has no teeth). 

The mouth, though, has teeth– a foot and a half long!

And gums like an old box-cart, 

and jaws that gape like the split cunt 

of a mule pissing in the heat. 

This man loves many women, 

making himself out to be handsome– 

but how’s he not sent to the mill with that ass?

If any woman touches him, should we not think

that she could just as well 

lick the ass of a foul executioner?

Catullus 98: Your Weapon 

More against you, Victius, than anyone else 

can it be said what is said of

the gossiping and the foolish. 

With your tongue – if the chance ever came–

you could lick both asses and leather-worn sandals. 

Victius, if you truly want to ruin us all, 

just open your mouth: 

it will get the job done. 

Catullus 99: Harsh Punishment

While you were playing, 

honey-sweet Iuventius, 

I stole from you a little kiss sweeter than nectar. 

But I did not escape unscathed –

I hung for more than an hour, 

nailed to the highest cross, 

trying to make it right. 

But no matter how many tears I cried, 

I couldn’t lessen your cruelty even slightly–

for as soon as I kissed you, 

you wiped your lips with plenty of water, 

banishing my love with every finger, 

as if my kiss was the foul saliva of a mongrel.

And what’s more, 

you kept handing me over to vicious love – 

tormenting me in every way, 

so that your kiss, once nectar, changed 

into something 

more bitter than black hellebore. 

Since you’ve set such a high penalty 

for my wretched love, 

never again will I steal 

another kiss.