NI te plus oculis meis amarem, 

1

If I did not love you more than my own eyes, 

Calue iucundissime , munere isto 

2

my dearest Calvus, I should hate you, 

odissem te odio Vatiniano: 

3

as we all hate Vatinius, because of this gift of yours; 

nam quid feci ego quidue sum locutus, 

4

for what have one, or what have I said, 

cur me tot male perderes poetis? 

5

that you should bring destruction upon me with all these poets? 

isti di mala multa dent clienti, 

6

May the gods send down all their plagues upon that client of yours 

qui tantum tibi misit impiorum. 

7

who sent you such a set of sinners. 

quod si, ut suspicor, hoc nouum ac repertum 

8

But if, as I suspect, this new and choice present 

munus dat tibi Sulla litterator, 

9

is given you by Sulla the schoolmaster, 

non est mi male, sed bene ac beate, 

10

then I am not vexed, but well happy, 

quod non dispereunt tui labores. 

11

because your labours are not lost. 

di magni, horribilem et sacrum libellum! 

12

Great gods, what a portentous and accursed book! 

quem tu scilicet ad tuum Catullum 

13

And this was the book which you sent your Catullus, 

misti, continuo ut die periret, 

14

to kill him off at once on the very day 

Saturnalibus, optimo dierum! 

15

of the Saturnalia, best of days. 

non non hoc tibi, false, sic abibit. 

16

No, no, you rogue, this shall not end so for you. 

nam si luxerit ad librariorum 

17

For let the morning only come, I will off to the booksellers, 

curram scrinia, Caesios, Aquinos, 

18

sweep together Caesii, Aquini, 

Suffenum, omnia colligam uenena. 

19

Suffenus, and all such poisonous stuff,

ac te his suppliciis remunerabor. 

20

And with these penalties will I pay you back your gift. 

uos hinc interea ualete abite 

21

You poets, meantime, farewell, away with you,

illuc, unde malum pedem attulistis, 

22

back to that ill place whence you brought your cursed feet, 

saecli incommoda, pessimi poetae.

23

you burdens of our age, you worst poets.