Catullus: Carmen 16

Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo,
Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi,
qui me ex versiculis meis putastis,
quod sunt molliculi, parum pudicum.
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam
ipsum, versiculos nihil necesse est;
qui tum denique habent salem ac leporem,
si sunt molliculi ac parum pudici,
et quod pruriat incitare possunt,
non dico pueris, sed his pilosis
qui duros nequeunt movere lumbos.
Vos, quod milia multa basiorum
legistis, male me marem putatis?
Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo.

Which one scholar translates thusly:

I’ll fuck you up the ass, and you can blow me,
you cocksucker Aurelius and you faggot Furius,
for suggesting that my little verses
are effeminate and not pure enough.
A good poet should be virtuous,
but his verses don’t need to be.
Who cares if verses that have spice and wit
are soft and not very pure?
They can also get you going.
I’m not talking to boys here, but to two hairy men
who can’t even move their creaky old loins.
Are you two putting me down
just because you’ve read about my thousands of kisses?
Fuck you both. You can blow me.

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Tis the season and all that jazz.  What could be more festive than some lyrical obscenity from a Roman poet?  After all …  those ancient Romans knew how to throw a party, didn’t they? Think Crucifixion.  Need I say more?

Details & linkage at my previous post: Dirty Latin Poetry

I can write a fairly dirty (and downright hot and sexy) poem myself.  Have you read cunt is your drug?

xo, Angela

ps. Did you notice my snowflakes? Pretty nice, huh?