In Other Words/Handing It to Cynthia
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Handing It to Cynthia
Propertius: Book II, Elegy 5.
“Hoc verumst, tota te ferri Cynthia Roma
Et non ignota vivere nequitia?”
Et 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?
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 name
In 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.
Who loves to lamp her printed name
In 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.
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!
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!