Annals of Volusius, shit-smeared sheets,
Release a vow on my girl’s behalf.
For she vowed to holy Venus and Cupid
That if I were restored to her
And ceased to circulate torturous iambics
She would give the choicest writings
Of the very worst of poets to slow-footed Vulcan
For burning in the merciless flames.
And the very worst girl perceived she
Was making this vow to the gods as a classy joke.
So, goddess, born from the blue-green sea,
Dweller of holy Idalium and exposed Urii
And Ancona and reedy Cnidus
And Amathus and Golgos
And Dyrrachium, marketplace of the Adriatic,
Receive the vow and see it is fulfilled
If it is neither inelegant nor lacking in charm.
Meanwhile, you, come forth to the flames,
Full of rusticity and crudities,
Annals of Volusius, shit-smeared sheets.