Dirty Latin (part two)

Happy January everyone!  Today's Dirty Latin selection is from Ovid (he's the guy who wrote the Metamorphoses -- you may remember him from high school or college English!) He also wrote many other works, including the Ars Amatoria, or The Art of Love, where he instructs men and women on how to woo or be wooed.  (Funnily enough, he also wrote Remedia Amoris, or The Cures for Love, where he tells you how to get rid of a lover as well!)

This passage is from the end of Book II of the Ars Amatoria (Part XIX):

"See, the knowing bed receives two lovers:

halt, Muse, at the closed doors of the room.
Flowing words will be said, by themselves, without you:
and that left hand won’t lie idle on the bed.
Fingers will find what will arouse those parts,
where love’s dart is dipped in secrecy.
Hector did it once with vigour, for Andromache,
and wasn’t only useful in the wars.
And great Achilles did it for his captive maid,
when he lay in his sweet bed, weary from the fight.
You let yourself be touched by hands, Briseis,
that were still dyed with Trojan blood.
And was that what overjoyed you, lascivious girl,
those conquering fingers approaching your body?
Trust me, love’s pleasure’s not to be hurried,
but to be felt enticingly with lingering delays.
When you’ve reached the place, where a girl loves to be touched,
don’t let modesty prevent you touching her.
You’ll see her eyes flickering with tremulous brightness,
as sunlight often flashes from running water.
Moans and loving murmurs will arise,
and sweet sighs, and playful and fitting words.
But don’t desert your mistress by cramming on more sail,
or let her overtake you in your race:
hasten to the goal together: that’s the fullness of pleasure,
when man and woman lie there equally spent.
This is the pace you should indulge in, when you’re given
time for leisure, and fear does not urge on the secret work.
When delay’s not safe, lean usefully on the oar,
and plunge your spur into the galloping horse.
While strength and years allow, sustain the work:
bent age comes soon enough on silent feet.
Plough the earth with the blade, the sea with oars,
take a cruel weapon in your warring hands,
or spend your body, and strength, and time, on girls:
this is warlike service too, this too earns plenty."

This translation is thanks to A.S. Kline.

Photo found here.   

Dirty Latin, part one

In high school, my favorite class was Latin.  It was definitely one of the toughest -- we moved fast with none of those wishy washy let's-color-the-clothing worksheets a la Spanish or French -- but also the most fun and stimulating class I enjoyed.  Where my English teachers would ignore Shakespeare's bawdy jokes, my Latin teacher would encourage discussion and facilitate understanding of raunchy bits of classicism. 

One of my favorite poets (and my all time favorite Latin poet) is a fellow by the name of Catullus.  (Pronounced cah-TULL-us, for you language geeks like me out there!)  He lived from about 84 to 54 BC and was presumed to have died around the age of thirty.  Here are some more details about him.  His biography isn't important for our purposes; just the fact that he had a tumultous affair with a wealthy man's wife, Clodia, whom he referred to in many more well known poems as "Lesbia." 

Catullus 2 and 3 are what I like to call the "Sparrow" poems... and he's not necessarily talking about a sparrow.  Here's the translation to Catullus 3: "Lugete, O Veneres Cupidinesque", with an assignment I wrote my senior year.  It's not quite a rebuttal to this poem in particular, but parts of it could be read thusly....

Lugete, O Veneres Cupidinesque:

Mourn, O Venuses and Cupids!

And as much of you as love beauty:

My girl's sparrow is dead...

Sparrow, the delight of my girl,

Which she loved more than her own eyes.

For he was honey-sweet and knew

Her as well as the girl her own mother,

Nor did he move himself from her lap,

But hopping now here, now there

He chirped continuously for his mistress alone. 

Now he goes through the dark journey

From where they deny any return. 

But curse upon you!  Cursed darkness of

Pluto, swallowing all beautiful things:

You have taken my beautiful sparrow. 

O wretched deed! O miserable sparrow!

It's your fault my girl's little eyes

Are swollen and red from weeping. 

Lesbia's Reply: (click the link to view it larger; I couldn't get the fonts to work out correctly to place it strictly in blogger)  I have to warn you that I'm never this mean and nasty! I was trying to channel Lesbia when I was writing it :-)  I know many men suffer from ED and it's not a pleasant thing.

Lesbia's Reply

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The photo I found here via Tumblr!