In Other Words/Handing It to Cynthia
Handing It to Cynthia
Propertius: Book II, Elegy 5.
“Hoc verumst, tota te ferri Cynthia RomaEt non ignota vivere nequitia?”
O Cynthia, tell me, is it true That you’re not acting fit to print?That Roman clubdom talks of you And whispers things I may not hint?What has this gossip of the street meant?Do I deserve that sort of treatment?
Tush! I shall seek some other skirt Who loves to lamp her printed nameIn poems written by Propert. Me for a grateful kind of dame.Before you get a chance to con me,I’ll do it—while the peeve is on me.
For lovers’ quarrels disappear As clouds before the southern wind,Wherefore I say, let’s cut it here, Before we knot the ties that bind.You’ll weep and wail and sob and sorrow,But you’ll forget it all to-morrow.
I shall not biff you with a brick Nor pull your hair. I scorn to spleen.I leave such actions to the hick Who wears no laurel on his bean.Far subtler you shall find my curses;Your cheek shall pale at these here verses!