Epigrams and Etchings
I enjoy reading poetry. Many years ago while browsing in a bookstore I discovered the Roman poets. Martial (c. 40–104 B.C.) and Catullus (c. 84–54 B.C.) became particular favourites for their wit – often I’ve laughed aloud at their very bawdy epigrams. They must have been brilliant men at a party! So rude and libellous, it’s a wonder if they weren’t sued by one of their outraged targets. Sadly though, I can’t read them in the original Latin, and must rely on clever translators.
Here is a small selection (the politer ones), accompanied by the drawings and etchings of Henri Matisse (1869–1954), which seemed eminently to suit.
MARTIAL
The Epigrams
Book I
I
May I present myself – the man
You read, admire and long to meet,
Known the world over for his neat
And witty epigrams? The name
Is Martial. Thank you, earnest fan,
For having granted me the fame
Seldom enjoyed by a dead poet
While I’m alive and here to know it.1
3
So, they’ve summed you up, my little book.
You’re now a ‘milestone in ironic outlook.’
This the price of your publicity:
MARTIAL VIEWS LIFE VERY SAUCILY.
Whatever they say is a load of balls
Certain to send you to second-hand stalls,
Unaware, little book, of the comforts of home
Your ‘low key wit’ now belongs to Rome.
What today’s ‘an incandescent event’
Soon winds up a ‘minor supplement.’
To set you off on the proper foot
Some shit’s written ‘Magic, a classic to boot.’2
38
They’re mine, but when a fool like you recites
My poems I resign the author’s rights.1
Femme Endormie, 1936
Book 2
I wrote, she never replied:
That goes on the debit side.
And yet, I’m sure she read it:
That I put down as credit.1
Book 3
90
She’s half-and-half inclined
To sleep with me. No? Yes?
What’s in that tiny mind?
Impossible to guess.1
Study of a model, 1934
Book 7
3
Why have I never sent
My works to you, old hack?
For fear the compliment
Comes punishingly back.1
Book 8
27
If you were wise as well as rich and sickly,
You’d see that every gift means, ‘Please die quickly.’1
Woman’s face, 1942
TO CHLOE
I could resign that eye of blue
Howe’er its splendour used to thrill me;
And even that cheek of roseate hue, –
To lose it, Chloe, would scarce kill me.
That snowy neck I ne’er should miss,
However much I’ve raved about it;
And sweetly as that lip can kiss,
I think I could exist without it.
In short, so well I’ve learned to fast,
That, sooth my love, I know not whether
I might not bring myself at last,
To – do without you altogether.3
FOOTNOTES
1 Martial – The Epigrams, translated by James Michie, Penguin Classics, 1978
2 Translated by W. S. Milne, (1953–) from The Roman Poets, Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets, 1997
3 Translated by Thomas Moore, (1779–1852), from The Roman Poets, Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets, 1997
La torsem et native nue 1932
CATULLUS
5
Lesbia,
live with me
& love me so
we’ll laugh at all
the sour-faced strict-
ures of the wise.
This sun once set
will rise again,
when our sun sets
follows night &
an endless sleep.
Kiss me now a
thousand times &
now a hundred
more & then a
hundred & a
thousand more again
till with so many
hundred thousand
kisses you & I
shall both lose count
nor any can
from envy of
so much kissing
put his finger
on the number
of sweet kisses
you of me &
I of you,
darling, have had.
From The Poems of Catullus, translated by Peter Whigam, Penguin Classics, 1966
Variation 1, 1942
Compare the same poem translated four centuries earlier:
Come and let us live, my Dear,
Let us love and never fear
What the sourest Fathers say:
Brightest Sol that dies to-day
Lives again as blithe to-morrow;
But if we dark sons of sorrow
Set, O then how long a night
Shuts the eyes of our short light!
Then let amorous kisses dwell
On our lips, begin and tell
A thousand, and a hundred score,
An hundred, and a thousand more,
Till another thousand smother
That, and wipe off another.
Thus at last when we have numbered
Many a thousand, many a hundred,
We’ll confound the reckoning quite,
And lose our selves in wild delight:
While our joys so multiply
As shall mock the envious eye.
Translated by Richard Crashaw (1612/13–49), from The Roman Poets, Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets, 1997
Fata with a hat of light, 1933