L.

A Roman wax tablet, with a stylus

At leisure, Lucinius, yesterday, how larkily,
We made the words obey us, how sparkily
We fought for the tablet; we scribbled and played,
Overjoyed in each verbal invention we made.
We capped phrases with phrases, made metrical jokes -
Oh we were the most dilettanteish blokes,
The monarchs of versing, the lords of the word,
And when I went home, I was high as a bird...

Yes, so much was my spirit warmed,
So by your wit and charm transformed,
I could not even think of eating,
And all night, my over-heating
Brain was restless as I  turned
And tossed, and for your presence yearned,
Longing for the daybreak when
I knew I might see you again.
But while my limbs were slumped in bed,
Exhausted, more than mostly dead,
This poem, friend, was made for you –
So now you know what I’ve been through.
Let's meet, and soon  – you’ll find it best
To just accede to this request,
Or Nemesis will do her stuff -
And I warn you, friend, she can get rough.

Gaius Valerius Catullus

Translated by George Simmers
 
If you have any thoughts about this translation, George Simmers  would be pleased to hear them