Stop being a fool, you failure, Catullus,
And accept what you see has died, is dead.
Once the sun shone brightly upon you,
When you went wherever the girl directed,
Loved by us as much as no woman again will be loved.
A lot of fun was had back there –
You were keen for it and the girl was not unwilling.
Yes, the sun truly shone brightly upon you.
Now she wants no more. And you, though weak,
Should not want it either, nor run after her as she flees,
Nor live in misery, but persevere with hardened heart, be strong.
Farewell, lover. Now Catullus is being strong.
He will not ask after you, or ask you out: you are not interested.
But you will be sorry when you are asked by no one.
So it is, wretched woman. What life remains for you yet?
Who’s going to approach you now, or consider you beautiful?
Whom now will you love, or whose lover will they say you are?
Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite?
But you, Catullus, pause. Be strong.