By Charles M. Sumid
Copyright 2025 Written 1973

I. The Gentle Lover

Ad Aureliam

Quid dicam, mea candida Aurelia?
Te vidi modo trans forum currentem,
et steti velut ictus a tonante.
Nec verba inveni, nec pedes movi,
sed fixus mansi marmore durior.
Tu risisti—quis non amat ridentem?—
et abiisti comes duabus amicis.
Nunc erro miser per vias Suburae,
nunc Martis Campo, nunc prope Tiberim,
sperans te iterum forte videre.
O si di darent optata vota,
non aurum peterem neque Indicos lapillos,
sed horam tecum, dulcis Aurelia!

Translation

To Aurelia

What can I say, my radiant Aurelia?
I saw you just now, running across the forum,
and I stood as if struck by Jupiter’s bolt.
No words came, nor could I move my feet—
I remained fixed, harder than marble.
You smiled—who does not love a smile?—
and departed, flanked by two dear friends.
Now I wander, wretched, through Subura’s alleys,
then the Field of Mars, then along the Tiber,
hoping by chance to see you once more.
Oh, if the gods would grant my heart’s desire,
I would not ask for gold or Indian gems,
but one hour with you, sweet Aurelia.

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II. The Passionate Catullus

Ad Aureliam

Aurelia, meae curas sanguinis,
quid agis? cerebrum mihi exedisti.
Vidi te heri—perii, puella!—
cum fratris domini deambulares.
Ille te tangit? Furcifer! Leno!
Di illum perdant pessime pessimum!
At tu blandula rides et susurras
in aurem misero seni trementi.
Per noctes ego te vorare cupio,
mordere et lacerare dulce corpus,
clamare usque dum vicini surgant.
Sed mane video te, mea vita,
et lingua coheret, genua labant.
Sic Amor me urat—ignis et glacies!

Translation

To Aurelia

Aurelia, torment of my blood,
how are you? You’ve devoured my brain.
I saw you yesterday—I’m undone, girl!—
strolling with your brother’s patron.
He touched you? Scoundrel! Pimp!
May the gods destroy that most wretched man!
But you, sweet-faced, smile and whisper
into the ear of that trembling old fool.
All night I burn to devour you,
to bite and tear your tender body,
to cry out until the neighbors wake.
But come morning, I see you, my life—
and my tongue sticks, my knees give way.
So Love scorches me—fire and ice!

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Notes on Style

These two poems showcase Catullus’s remarkable range. The first captures his capacity for tender, almost adolescent yearning—the lover struck dumb by beauty, wandering the city in hopes of another glimpse. This is the Catullus who could write with exquisite delicacy about kisses and sparrows.

The second reveals the raw, unfiltered Catullus who scandalized Roman society with his frank sexuality and violent jealousy. The language shifts from elevated (“candida”) to visceral (“exedisti,” “vorare”), and the meter pounds with passionate intensity. Both poems use his favorite hendecasyllabic meter (11 syllables per line), but the second employs more elisions and harsh consonant clusters to mirror the speaker’s emotional turmoil.

The juxtaposition shows why Catullus remains so compelling—he could be both the gentle Renaissance sonneteer and the punk rock poet of ancient Rome, sometimes in the very same poem.