| A dangerous flaw |
[23 April, 2008] |
It seems that International Pixel-Stained Peasant Day has come round again. I don’t know whether this is really a suitable offering, but it was today’s bit of fun.
That no one, but no one,
encounters you gladly,
that wherever you come
there is hasty departure,
and space all around you:
Ligurinus, why is this?
Are you keen to discover?
You are too much the poet.
It’s a dangerous flaw.
Not a tigress stirred up
by the theft of her cubs,
not a basking snake
in the noonday sun,
nor a scorpion vile
is feared quite like this.
For who, I demand, can endure so much stress?
You read while I’m standing,
you read while I’m sitting,
you read while I’m running,
you read while I’m shitting.
I escape to the baths:
in my ear you are droning;
I make for the pool:
I’m prevented from swimming.
I hurry to table:
you grab me in passing;
I arrive at the table:
you hound me from eating.
Exhausted, I sleep:
you intrude where I’m lying.
Do you want to be shown
the harm that you do?
You’re an upright, a decent, an innocent man:
and how you strike terror!
Marcus Valerius Martialis (c. 40–c. 104)
Epigrams III. xliv.
trans. Gillian Spraggs
( Original text )
translation © Gillian Spraggs, 2008
Edited to incorporate minor revisions, 28 April.
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