deo videtur,
Ille, si fas est, superare divos,
Qui sedens adversus identidem te
Spectat et audit
Dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis 5
Eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te,
Lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi
* * * *
Lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus
Flamma demanat, sonitu suopte 10
Tintinant aures geminae, teguntur
Lumina nocte.

LIb.

Otium, Catulle, tibi molestumst:
Otio exultas nimiumque gestis. 15
Otium et reges prius et beatas
Perdidit urbes.

LI.

TO LESBIA.

Peer of a God meseemeth he,
Nay passing Gods (and that can be!)
Who all the while sits facing thee
Sees thee and hears
Thy low sweet laughs which (ah me!) daze 5
Mine every sense, and as I gaze
Upon thee (Lesbia!) o'er me strays
* * * *
My tongue is dulled, my limbs adown
Flows subtle flame; with sound its own 10
Rings either ear, and o'er are strown
Mine eyes with night.

LIb.

Ease has thy lot, Catullus, crost,
Ease gladdens thee at heaviest cost, 15
Ease killed the Kings ere this and lost
The tallest towns.

He to me to be peer to a god doth seem, he, if such were lawful, to
o'er-top the gods, who sitting oft a-front of thee doth gaze on thee, and
doth listen to thine laughter lovely, which doth snatch away from sombre me
mine every sense: for instant falls my glance on thee, Lesbia, naught is
left to me [of voice], but my tongue is numbed, a keen-edged flame spreads
through my limbs, with sound self-caused my twin ears sing, and mine eyes
are enwrapped with night.

Sloth, O Catullus, to thee is hurtful: in sloth beyond measure dost thou
exult and pass thy life. Sloth hath erewhile ruined rulers and gladsome
cities.

LII.

Quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori?
Sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet,
Per consulatum peierat Vatinius:
Quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori?

LII.

CATULLUS TO HIMSELF.

What is't, Catullus? Why delay to out die?
That Wen hight Nonius sits in curule chair,
For Consulship Vatinius false doth swear;
What is't, Catullus? Why delay to out die?

Prithee Catullus, why delay thine death? Nonius the tumour is seated in the
curule chair, Vatinius forswears himself for consul's rank: prithee
Catullus, why delay thine death?