Catullus, Carmina Poem 23
Julian Fielder /
- Created on 2023-10-02 20:56:45
- Modified on 2023-10-03 04:27:34
- Translated by Leonard C. Smithers
- Aligned by Julian Fielder
Latin
English
Furi , cui neque servus est neque arca
nec cimex neque araneus neque ignis ,
verum est et pater et noverca , quorum
dentes vel silicem comesse possunt ,
est pulchre tibi cum tuo parente
et cum coniuge lignea parentis .
nec mirum : bene nam valetis omnes ,
pulchre concoquitis , nihil timetis ,
non incendia , non graves ruinas ,
non furta impia , non dolos veneni ,
non casus alios periculorum .
atqui corpora sicciora cornu
aut si quid magis aridum est habetis
sole et frigore et esuritione .
quare non tibi sit bene ac beate ?
a te sudor abest , abest saliva ,
mucusque et mala pituita nasi .
hanc ad munditiem adde mundiorem ,
quod culus tibi purior salillo est ,
nec toto decies cacas in anno ;
atque id durius est faba et lapillis ,
quod tu si manibus teras fricesque ,
non unquam digitum inquinare possis .
haec tu commoda tam beata , Furi ,
noli spernere nec putare parvi ,
et sestertia quae soles precari
centum desine : nam satis beatu ' s .
nec cimex neque araneus neque ignis ,
verum est et pater et noverca , quorum
dentes vel silicem comesse possunt ,
est pulchre tibi cum tuo parente
et cum coniuge lignea parentis .
nec mirum : bene nam valetis omnes ,
pulchre concoquitis , nihil timetis ,
non incendia , non graves ruinas ,
non furta impia , non dolos veneni ,
non casus alios periculorum .
atqui corpora sicciora cornu
aut si quid magis aridum est habetis
sole et frigore et esuritione .
quare non tibi sit bene ac beate ?
a te sudor abest , abest saliva ,
mucusque et mala pituita nasi .
hanc ad munditiem adde mundiorem ,
quod culus tibi purior salillo est ,
nec toto decies cacas in anno ;
atque id durius est faba et lapillis ,
quod tu si manibus teras fricesque ,
non unquam digitum inquinare possis .
haec tu commoda tam beata , Furi ,
noli spernere nec putare parvi ,
et sestertia quae soles precari
centum desine : nam satis beatu ' s .
Furius
,
you
who
have
neither
a
slave
,
nor
a
coffer
,
nor
a
bug
,
nor
a
spider
,
nor
fire
,
but
have
both
a
father
and
a
step-mother
whose
teeth
can
munch
up
even
flints
,
—you
live
finely
with
your
father
,
and
with
your
father
'
s
wooden
spouse
.
And
no
wonder
:
for
you
are
all
in
good
health
,
finely
you
digest
,
you
fear
nothing
,
not
arson
,
not
the
fall
of
your
house
,
not
impious
thefts
,
not
plots
of
poison
,
no
perilous
happenings
whatsoever
.
And
you
have
bodies
drier
than
horn
(
or
if
there
is
anything
more
arid
still
,
parched
by
sun
,
frost
,
and
famine
.
So
why
is
it
not
happy
and
well
with
you
?
Sweat
is
a
stranger
to
you
,
absent
also
are
saliva
,
phlegm
,
and
evil
nose-snot
.
Add
to
this
cleanliness
the
thing
that
'
s
still
more
cleanly
,
that
your
backside
is
purer
than
a
salt-cellar
,
nor
do
you
crap
ten
times
in
the
whole
year
,
and
then
it
is
harder
than
beans
and
pebbles
;
and
if
you
rub
and
crumble
it
in
your
hands
,
you
can
'
t
ever
dirty
a
finger
.
Spurn
not
hese
goodly
gifts
and
favours
,
Furius
,
nor
think
lightly
of
them
;
and
stop
always
begging
for
a
hundred
sesterces
:
for
you
are
happy
enough
!