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.