C. Valerius Catullus, Carmina
Sir Richard Francis Burton, Ed.

TO HORTALUS LAMENTING A LOST BROTHER.

Albeit care that consumes, with dule assiduous grieving,
Me from the Learnèd Maids (Hortalus!) ever seclude,
Nor can avail sweet births of the Muses thou to deliver
Thought o' my mind; (so much floats it on flooding of ills:
For that the Lethe-wave upsurging of late from abysses,
Lavèd my brother's foot, paling with pallor of death,
He whom the Trojan soil, Rhoetean shore underlying,
Buries for ever and aye, forcibly snatched from our sight.
...
I can address; no more shall I hear thee tell of thy doings,
Say, shall I never again, brother all liefer than life,
Sight thee henceforth? But I will surely love thee for ever
Ever what songs I sing saddened shall be by thy death;
Such as the Daulian bird 'neath gloom of shadowy frondage
Warbles, of Itys lost ever bemoaning the lot.)
Yet amid grief so great to thee, my Hortalus, send I
These strains sung to a mode borrowed from Battiades;
Lest shouldest weet of me thy words, to wandering wind-gusts
Vainly committed, perchance forth of my memory flowed—
As did that apple sent for a furtive giftie by wooer,
In the chaste breast of the Maid hidden a-sudden out-sprang;
For did the hapless forget when in loose-girt garment it lurkèd,
Forth would it leap as she rose, scared by her mother's approach,
And while coursing headlong, it rolls far out of her keeping,
O'er the triste virgin's brow flushes the conscious blush.