|Posted on Thu Jan 29, 2009 02:29:16|| |
|Is this really the best translation to be found for this poem? Accuracy to the Latin is more important than idiomatic English, and in this case the idiom doesn't even make sense (logically or as literature).|
|Posted at Mon Apr 11, 2011 19:07:56|| Quote|
|Perhaps this is a better translation:|
I beg, provided it's no trouble,
To point out where your hiding-place may be.
For you I searched in the Lower Field,
You in the Circus Maximus, you at all the bookstalls,
You in the consecrated temple of Capitoline Jove.
Likewise in the Great Promenade*
All the little women, friend, I cornered,
Whom I saw by their face however were serene.
†From her face/ from even you†* thus I myself demanded,
My Camerius from that most wicked girl.
A certain one said, disclosing her bare bosom*
"Look, here in my rosy breasts he is hiding."
But now to bear you is a labour of Hercules:
You deprive us of your company with such aloofness, friend.
Say to me where you will be, out with it
Boldly, commit it, trust the light.
Now the milk-white girls have got you, haven't they?
If your shut tongue you keep in your mouth,
You will throw out all the fruits of love.
Venus rejoices in verbose language.
Or, if you want, you may bolt your palate,
As long as I may be a participant in your love.
*Part of Pompey's theatre in Campus Martius
*It's probably impossible to restore avelte to something meaningful
*restoring 'reduc...' as 'reducta pectus'
We implore you - if perchance it's no trouble -
to point out just where your Shady Nook is.
We've looked for you at the racetracks (both Bijou
and CircMax), checked out all the bookstores, even
cased the temple sacred to Jove Most High.
Likewise, my friend, I collared all the femettes
strolling in Pompey's Portico--but not
one of those innocents batted an eye.
"Give him back!" (that's how I accosted them)
"Give me Camerius, you wicked little maids!"
One of them, making a clean breast of it, said:
"C'm åere yourself: he's hiding--between my pink tits!"
To put up with you now is Ye Labor of Hercules,
you keep your distance with such disdain, dear friend!
Tell us your schedule (when and where), broadcast it
boldly, trust me. Step into the Light of Day!
The Peaches ån' Cream Girls are keeping you, right?
If you keep your tongue sealed up in your mouth,
you'll waste all the tasty fruits of love -
Venus Verbosa likes lots of gossip!
Or, if you want, you can keep your hatch latched,
so long as I get a load of you love!
|Posted at Thu Feb 22, 2018 16:09:17|| Quote|
|Pedimos-te os esconderijos teus|
Onde se encontram digas, se molesto
Tal não te for. Buscamos-te no Campo
Menor, no circo, na loja de livros,
No templo consagrado a Jove, no átrio
De Pompeu Magno, amigo, e moças mil
Puxei à mão, inquiri, vulto sereno
Mostraram de desdém. "Dizei, mocinhas
Perdidas, onde está"-assim eu falava-
"Camério?" ali de peito à mostra uma
disse: " ei-lo aqui se esconde em meus mamilos!
Labor d'hércules torna-se o buscar-te,
Tamanho orgulho tens, amigo, és duro!
Ora, diz-me para aonde vais, confia,
Não temas, te revele à clara luz.
São garotas peitudas que te prendem?
Vê lá se te calares, as delícias
Todas de amor estarás jogando fora.
De parlar Vênus gosta, e gosta muito!
Mas se tens língua presa ao bucal cárcere,
Podes calar, contanto que partícipe
Dos teus amores seja também eu.