Saepe tibi studioso animo venante requirens
carmina uti possem mittere Battiadae,
qui te lenirem nobis, neu conarere
tela infesta meum mittere in usque caput,
hunc uideo mihi nunc frustra sumptum esse laborem,
Gelli, nec nostras hic ualuisse preces.
contra nos tela ista tua evitabimus amitha
at fixus nostris tu dabis supplicium.

I’ve often been searching around, my busy mind hunting,
as to how I could send you Callimachus’s poems,
so they’d soften you towards me, so you’d not try
to land your hostile shafts on my head,
now I see I’ve troubled myself in vain,
Gellius, my good intentions were worthless.
I’ll evade the shafts of yours you fire at me,
but you’ll be punished, fixed for ever by mine.