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Poem 3: Lesbia's sparrow is dead
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Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque, et quantum est hominum uenustiorum: passer mortuus est meae puellae passer, deliciae meae puellae, quem plus illa oculis suis amabat. nam mellitus erat suamque norat ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem, nec sese a gremio illius mouebat, sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum illuc, unde negant redire quemquam. at uobis male sit, malae tenebrae Orci, quae omnia bella deuoratis: tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis o factum male! o miselle passer! tua nunc opera meae puellae flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli. |
Venuses, Cupids, and all there are of those of greater feeling, grieve! The sparrow of my girl is dead – sparrow, beloved of my girl, he whom she loved more than her eyes. 5 For he was honey-sweet and knew his mistress as well as a girl her mother; nor did he move from her bosom, but hopping about this way and that constantly cheeped to his mistress alone. 10 And now he goes on that gloomy journey from where, they say, none ever return. A curse on you, Malicious Shades of Orcus, who guzzle all fine things: you’ve snatched from me such a fine sparrow! 15 Oh bad deed! Oh poor little sparrow! Now thanks to you, the swollen little eyes of my girl are red from weeping. |
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Notes The Latin metre is hendecasyllables; the English metre is iambic tetrameters. |
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