Furius and Aurelius, you are my friends.
Should Catullus penetrate furthest India,
Where the shore is pounded by the far-
Resounding wave of Oceanus in the East,
Or reach the Hyrcani and effeminate Arabs,
Or the Sacae or arrow-bearing Parthians,
Or Egypt where waters from the
Seven-mouthed Nile spread their colour.
Or should he step over the high Alps
As he visits the monuments of great Caesar,
The Gallic Rhine, and terrifying
And far-off Britons –
All of which, and whatever else the will
Of the gods may bring, you are ready
To attempt together;
Deliver a few words, unpleasant ones,
To my girl:
May she live and flourish with her lovers,
Three hundred of whom she holds in a single embrace,
Loving none truly but repeatedly breaking
All their balls;
And may she not expect my love as she did before,
Which through her fault has fallen like a flower
On the edge of a meadow, touched
By a plough passing by.