Catullus 8

Catullus 8

Wretched Catullus, will you stop playing the fool,
And cast off that which you see to have led you to ruin?
Once splendid suns shone for you,
When you went where your girl led:
No love was adored as much by you;
When then those many joys were made
Which you wished your girl not deny,
Truly splendid suns did shine for you.
Already now she wills not: you also–powerless–
Do not follow her as she flies, lest you live miserable,
But take up a resolute mind, be obdurate.
Farewell, girl! Now Catullus is steadfast,
Lest he were to seek you, lest he will ask for you, unwilling.
And you will be grieved, when you are not sought.
Wicked! Lamentable you! What life remains to you?
Who now comes to you? To whom, do you seem beautiful?
Whom now do you love? Whose are you said to be?
Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite?
And you, Catullus, be stubbornly obdurate.

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