If I didn’t love you more than my eyes, <br />most delightful Calvus, I’d dislike you <br />for this gift, with a true Vatinian dislike: <br />Now what did I do and what did I say, <br />to be so badly cursed with poets? <br />Let the gods send ill-luck to that client <br />who sent you so many wretches. <br />But if, as I guess, Sulla the grammarian <br />gave you this new and inventive gift, <br />that’s no harm to me, it’s good and fine <br />that your efforts aren’t all wasted. <br />Great gods, an amazing, immortal book! <br />That you sent, of course, to your Catullus, <br />so he might immediately die, <br />on the optimum day, in the Saturnalia! <br />No you won’t get away with this crime. <br />Now when it’s light enough I’ll run <br />to the copyists bookstalls, I’ll acquire <br />Caesius, Aquinus, Suffenus, <br />all of the poisonous ones. <br />And I’ll repay you for this suffering. <br />Meanwhile farewell take yourself off, there, <br />whence your unlucky feet brought you, <br />cursed ones of the age, worst of poets.<br /><br />Gaius Valerius Catullus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-a-book-to-calvus-the-poet/
