Translation Bakeoff Finalist: Catullus
Catullus 39
Because he has white teeth, Egnatius grins
incessantly. In court, while the defence
attorney is provoking tears, he grins.
Beside a pyre, as everyone laments
a loving son, the stricken mother mourning
her only child, he grins. No matter what
he’s doing, where he is, what’s going on,
he grins. He has a sickness, and it’s not
elegant, if you ask me, or well bred.
I have to warn you, good Egnatius, that
were you a Roman, Tiburtine, or Sabine,
a parsimonious Umbrian or a fat
Etruscan, a Lanuvian, dark and toothy,
or, like my countrymen, a Transpadane,
or anyone who cleans his teeth with water—
all the same, I’d want you to refrain
from grinning all the time, since nothing’s more
stupid than stupid grinning. But you come
from Spain, where each man saves his piss to rub
next morning on his teeth and ruddy gums:
the more your teeth are polished, thanks to this,
the more it shows how much you’ve drunk of piss.
Latin text:
Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes,
renidet usque quaque. si ad rei ventum est
subsellium, cum orator excitat fletum,
renidet ille; si ad pii rogum fili
lugetur, orba cum flet unicum mater,
renidet ille. quidquid est, ubicumque est,
quodcumque agit, renidet: hunc habet morbum,
neque elegantem, ut arbitror, neque urbanum.
quare monendum est te mihi, bone Egnati.
si urbanus esses aut Sabinus aut Tiburs
aut parcus Umber aut obesus Etruscus
aut Lanuvinus ater atque dentatus
aut Transpadanus, ut meos quoque attingam,
aut quilubet, qui puriter lavit dentes,
tamen renidere usque quaque te nollem:
nam risu inepto res ineptior nulla est.
nunc Celtiber es: Celtiberia in terra,
quod quisque minxit, hoc sibi solet mane
dentem atque russam defricare gingivam,
ut quo iste vester expolitior dens est,
hoc te amplius bibisse praedicet loti.
Literal translation:
Egnatius, because he has white teeth,
smiles constantly. If a court case comes to
the defendant’s bench, when the orator arouses tears,
he smiles; if at the funeral pyre a loving son
is mourned, when the bereaved mother weeps for her one and only child,
he smiles. Whatever it is, wherever he is,
whatever is going on, he smiles: he has this sickness,
neither elegant, as I think, nor refined.
Therefore I must warn you, my good Egnatius,
that even if you were a Roman or a Sabine or a Tiburtine
or a thrifty Umbrian or a fat Etruscan
or a dark and toothy Lanuvian
or a Transpadane (to mention my own people, too)
or whoever you please who washes his teeth cleanly,
still I would not wish for you to smile constantly:
for nothing is more foolish than a foolish laugh.
Now you are a Celtiberian: in Celtiberian lands
each person is accustomed in the morning to use what he has pissed
to rub his teeth and red gums,
so that the more polished those teeth of yours are,
the more piss they proclaim that you’ve drunk.
|
Hybrid Mode
