I am covered in a cheap garment, there is no gold in my hair, nor does my hair have the gifts of the Arabs.
§15.77Cui colar infelix, aut cui placuisse laborem?
For whom should I adorn myself in my misery, or for whom should I strive to please?
§15.78Ille mei cultus unicus auctor abes.
You, the sole source of my adornment, are absent.
§15.79Molle meum levibusque cor est violabile telis, §15.80Et semper causa est, cur ego semper amem — §15.81Sive ita nascenti legem dixere Sorores §15.82Nec data sunt vitae fila severa meae, §15.83Sive abeunt studia in mores, artisque magistra §15.84Ingenium nobis molle Thalia facit.
My heart is soft and vulnerable to light weapons, and there is always a reason why I should always love — whether the Sisters dictated such a law to me at my birth, and no stern threads were given to my life, or whether studies turn into habits, and Thalia, the mistress of my art, Thalia, makes my nature soft.
What wonder if the age of first down carried me away, and the years during which a man can love?
I was afraid, Aurora, lest you should snatch him instead of Cephalus — and you would have done so, but your first abduction holds you!
§15.89Hunc si conspiciat quae conspicit omnia Phoebe, §15.90Iussus erit somnos continuare Phaon; §15.91Hunc Venus in caelum curru vexisset eburno, §15.92Sed videt et Marti posse placere suo.
If Phoebe, who beholds all things, should look upon him, Phaon will be ordered to continue his sleep; Venus would have carried him to heaven in her ivory chariot, but she sees that he could also please her Mars.
§15.93O nec adhuc iuvenis, nec iam puer, utilis aetas,
O you who are not yet a young man, nor now a boy, a fitting age!
§15.94O decus atque aevi gloria magna tui,
O honor and great glory of your time!
§15.95Huc ades inque sinus, formose, relabere nostros!
Come here, beautiful one, and slip back into my embrace!
§15.96Non ut ames oro, verum ut amere sinas.
I do not pray that you love me, but that you allow yourself to be loved.
§15.97Scribimus, et lacrimis oculi rorantur obortis; §15.98Adspice, quam sit in hoc multa litura loco!
I write, and my eyes are bedewed with rising tears; look, how much erasure there is in this spot!
§15.99Si tam certus eras hinc ire, modestius isses, §15.100Et modo dixisses 'Lesbi puella, vale!' §15.101Non tecum lacrimas, non oscula nostra tulisti; §15.102Denique non timui, quod dolitura fui.
If you were so determined to go from here, you should have gone more gently, and just said 'Lesbian girl, farewell!' You did not carry with you my tears, nor our kisses; in short, I did not fear what I was destined to grieve.
§15.103Nil de te mecum est nisi tantum iniuria; nec tu, §15.104Admoneat quod te, pignus, amantis, habes.
Nothing of you is with me except only injury; nor do you, have any pledge of your lover to remind you.
I gave no parting instructions, nor indeed would I have given any, except that you should not wish to be unmindful of me.
§15.107Per tibi — qui numquam longe discedat! — amorem, §15.108Perque novem iuro, numina nostra, deas, §15.109Cum mihi nescio quis 'fugiunt tua gaudia' dixit, §15.110Nec me flere diu, nec potuisse loqui!
By that love — which may it never depart far from you! — and by the nine goddesses, our deities, I swear, when someone said to me 'Your joys are fleeing,' that for a long time I could neither weep nor speak!
Tears were lacking to my eyes and words to my throat, my heart was gripped by icy cold.
§15.113Postquam se dolor invenit, nec pectora plangi §15.114Nec puduit scissis exululare comis, §15.115Non aliter, quam si nati pia mater adempti §15.116Portet ad exstructos corpus inane rogos.
After my grief found itself, I was not ashamed to beat my breast nor to wail with torn hair, no otherwise than if a loving mother were carrying the lifeless body of her snatched-away son to the built-up pyres.
§15.117Gaudet et e nostro crescit maerore Charaxus §15.118Frater, et ante oculos itque reditque meos, §15.119Utque pudenda mei videatur causa doloris, §15.120'Quid dolet haec? certe filia vivit!' ait.
My brother Charaxus rejoices and grows big on my sorrow, and goes to and fro before my eyes, and so that the cause of my grief might seem shameful, he says 'Why does she grieve?
§15.121Non veniunt in idem pudor atque amor.
Surely her daughter is alive!' Shame and love do not come together.
omne videbat §15.122Vulgus; eram lacero pectus aperta sinu.
The whole crowd was watching; I was bare-breasted, my dress torn.
You are my care, Phaon; my dreams bring you back to me — dreams brighter than a beautiful day.
There I find you, though you are far away in other regions; but sleep does not hold joys long enough.
§15.127Saepe tuos nostra cervice onerare lacertos, §15.128Saepe tuae videor supposuisse meos; §15.129Oscula cognosco, quae tu committere lingua §15.130Aptaque consueras accipere, apta dare.
Often I seem to weigh down my neck with your arms, often to have placed my own under yours; I recognize the kisses which you were accustomed to join with your tongue, fit to receive, fit to give.
Sometimes I caress, and whisper words very like the truth, and my mouth watches with my senses.
I am ashamed to tell what lies beyond, but all things happen, and it pleases, and I am not allowed to remain dry.
§15.135At cum se Titan ostendit et omnia secum, §15.136Tam cito me somnos destituisse queror; §15.137Antra nemusque peto, tamquam nemus antraque prosint — §15.138Conscia deliciis illa fuere meis.
But when Titan shows himself and all things with him, I complain that sleep has abandoned me so quickly; I seek the caves and the grove, as if the grove and the caves could help — they were privy to my delights.
Thither, out of my mind, like one whom raving Enyo has touched, I am carried, with my hair lying on my neck.
§15.141Antra vident oculi scabro pendentia tofo, §15.142Quae mihi Mygdonii marmoris instar erant; §15.143Invenio silvam, quae saepe cubilia nobis §15.144Praebuit et multa texit opaca coma — §15.145Sed non invenio dominum silvaeque meumque.
My eyes see caves hanging with rough tufa, which to me were like Mygdonian marble; I find the wood which often provided us a couch and covered us, shady with its thick foliage — but I do not find the master of the wood and of myself.
§15.146Vile solum locus est; dos erat ille loci.
The place is cheap ground; he was the dowry of the place.