Friday, August 28, 2009

Martial: Epigrams


You came to see me only once
When I was sick in bed;
I thank you, Oppian; had you come
More often, I'd be dead.


I'll not believe that I'm your heir, until
I read it after probate, in your will.


Fabulla swears the hair she wears is hers;
Does that place her among the perjurers?


Matho complains that my book is more than a little uneven;
If he is telling the truth, then he is praising my pen.
Books that are even throughout, Matho, are sure to be dreadful;
Books without height and depth come from the stupidest men.

-Translated by Rolfe Humphreys-

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