#latin poetry
Guys, guys… new ask game
Tell me what Catullus would write about me were he given the reason, bonus points if you include what I did to make him write it.
Eheu, te nescio satis facere hunc.
sive mutata iuvenem figura ales in terris imitaris, almae filius Maiae, patiens vocari Caesaris ultor. Serus in caelum redeas diuque laetus intersis populo Quirini, neve te nostris vitiis iniquum ocior aura tollat; hic magnos potius triumphos, hic ames dici pater atque princeps, neu sinas Medos equitare inultos te duce, Caesar.
“Or having changed shape, do you winged one, son of nourishing Maia, imitate the young man on earth, called the unyielding avenger of Caesar? May you return to heaven at a late hour and be present for a long while with the people of Romulus, and may no swifter breeze take you, injured by our crimes. Here are rather great triumphs, here may you love to be pronounced father and first citizen, and, with you as general, not allow the unpunished Medes to ride, Caesar!” – Horace Odes1.2.41-52
Remember the time that Horace wrote that Octavian is really just Mercury in disguise??
iam nunc algentes autumnus fecerat umbras atque hiemem tepidis spectabat Phoebus habenis, iam platanus iactare comas, iam coeperat uvas adnumerare suas defecto palmite vitis: ante oculos stabat quidquid promiserat annus.
“Already now autumn had produced cold shades and Phoebus was looking toward winter with cooled reins, already the plane tree had begun to cast down its foliage, already the vine, having lost her youth, had begun to count out her grapes: everything the year had promised was standing before our eyes.”
Poem II, attributed to Petronius
Title: The Poems of Catullus
Translator: Guy Lee
Rating:5/5
This is one of my favourite translations of Catullus’ poems. One of the reasons that I like them is that, compared to other translations I have read, they are quite literal whilst still trying to capture the style and flow of the Latin.
I prefer more literal translations which is a personal preference. If you prefer something more poetic then other translations may be more suitable.
The book is composed with the Latin on one page and the English translation on the other. It has a really good introduction which covers things such as how the poems were found, the metre they were written in, Catullus’ life, and an overview of Roman poetry. There are also comprehensive notes at the back which explain historical and mythological allusions and translation notes.
Overall I think this is an easily accessible edition of Catullus’ poems. The translations are straightforward and still manage to capture the vibrancy of the originals. I also like that it contains the original Latin, this makes it a good edition for Latin students.
I would recommend this translation for people new to Catullus or Roman poetry and for people studying Latin. For me this hits everything and gets a 5 out of 5.
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Mars Bar, a Latin poem by Herbert H Huxley (please read this out loud):
Est praedulcis esu Mars-Bar.
Nil est cibo tuo, Mars, par.
Tune vis beatum larem?
Habe promptum Martem-Barem.
Captus dono Martis-Baris
Helenam liquisset Paris.
Dum natabunt ponto scari,
Dentur laudes Marti-Bari!
*scarus is a type of fish (the parrotfish)
My (loose) English translation:
Outstandingly sweet is the Mars Bar,
To your food, Mars, there is no par.
Do you need some holy favour?
Offer up the Mar Bars’ flavour.
Paris would never have been a felon,
if offered a bar in place of Helen.
As long as fish swim in the sea,
praises to the Mars Bar be!
(I found this poem on the Wikipedia page for The Motor Bus, which is also an incredibly funny poem for anyone who knows anything at all about the Latin language.)
Ave Demeter, Mater veris!
Agros agricolis vegetas,
Gaudium hominibus das.
Tuum tempus celebramus!
—-
(Hail Demeter, Mother of spring!
You invigorate the fields for the farmers,
You give joy to the people.
We celebrate your season!)
early morning. down to the shore again
to find a place to grieve. the place he left
lingering. here the ropes were loosed [here
he gave me kisses on the shore, here he left] she said
and while she thought and looked and felt, looking out
along the shore, in liquid space, she saw—far off
not sure—a body or something in the water—
wondered what, but then the waves pulled it by—still
far—a body for sure. [whose?] unknown
but she felt sick for the shipwreck,
wept for the stranger as a driving
wave brought the body nearer
and as it got bigger her soul grew smaller—now
near, nearing land. now she could see. now she knew.
it was her husband [it’s him] she breathed and
stretched a shaking hand and tore
her face and hair and clothes
[how can you come back to me like this]
in that bay a man-made pier, where the waves broke
down she went, she leapt
and this amazing thing: she flew,
struck light air, bore wings compressed and turned,
a desolate bird wave-bound
OVID
Translated from the Latin by Victoria Punch
