Miser Catulle, dēsinās ineptīre,
et quod vidēs perisse perditum dūcās.
fulsēre quondam candidī tibī sōlēs,
cum ventitābās quō puella dūcēbat
amāta nōbīs quantum amābitur nulla.
ibi illa multa cum iocōsa fīēbant,
quae tū volēbās nec puella nōlēbat,
fulsēre vērē candidī tibī sōlēs.
nunc iam illa nōn vult: tū quoque impotens nōlī,
nec quae fugit sectāre, nec miser vīve,
sed obstinātā mente perfer, obdūrā.
valē puella, iam Catullus obdūrat,
nec tē requīret nec rogābit invītam.
at tū dolēbis, cum rogāberis nulla.
scelesta, vae tē, quae tibī manet vīta?
quis nunc tē adībit? cui vidēberis bella?
quem nunc amābis? cuius esse dīcēris?
quem bāsiābis? cui labella mordēbis?
at tū, Catulle, destinātus obdūrā.
Wretched Catullus, stop acting the fool, and consider lost what you see to be lost. Suns once shone bright for you, when you used to go where the girl led you, loved by me as no woman will be loved. When those many playful things were happening there, which you wanted and the girl did not reject, truly suns shone bright for you. Now she rejects them: helplessly reject them yourself also, and don’t pursue a girl who flees from you, and don’t live wretchedly, but bear up and endure with a determined mind. Goodbye, girl, now Catullus is determined, and won’t go looking for you nor ask you when you don’t want him. But you’ll be sorry, when you’re not asked at all. Wicked girl, alas for you, what life awaits you? Who will approach you now? To whom will you seem pretty? Whom will you love now? Whose girl will you be said to be? Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite? But you, Catullus, be determined and endure.
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