Carmen 51

Equal to a god he seems to me,

or if it is right to say, he surpasses those above,

this man, who sitting across from you can look upon you and hear

your sweet laughter, which robs wretched me

of all feelings: for as soon as I look

upon you, my Love, no voice remains in my mouth.

As my tongue is paralyzed, a fine fire

spreads down through my limbs, the ears ring with their

very own sound; both my eyes are veiled in darkness of love for you.

Love, dear poet, is your trouble;

Love is what tortures you and moves you to passion;

Love has proved the ruin of kings and prosperous cities.

Ille mi par esse deo videtur,
ille, si fas est, superare divos,
qui sedens adversus identidem te
spectat et audit
dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis
eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te,
Lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi
vocis in ore,
lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus
flamma demanat, sonitu suopte
tintinant aures, gemina et teguntur
lumina nocte.
Otium, Catulle, tibi molestum est:
otio exsultas nimiumque gestis:
otium et reges prius et beatas
perdidit urbes.