num_pages: 165
description: A book-length anthology of selections of love poems translated into English verse, with an Introduction, Notes, and Glossary, for the use of students and other readers interested in ancient Roman literature and culture.Here is a  FidelityI don’t ask you to be faithful -- you’re beautiful, after all --but just that I be spared the pain of knowing.I make no stringent demands that you should really be chaste,but only that you try to cover up.If a girl can claim to be pure, it’s the same as being it’s only admitted vice that makes for scandal.What madness, to confess by day what’s wrapped in night,and what you’ve done in secret, openly tell!The hooker, about to bed some Roman off the streetstill locks her door first, keeping out the will you yourself then make your sins notorious,accusing and prosecuting your own crime?Be wise, and learn at least to imitate chaste girls,and let me believe you’re good, though you are not.Do what you do, but simply deny you ever there’s nothing wrong with public modesty.There is a proper place for fill it upwith all voluptuousness, and banish shame;but when you’re done there, then put off all playfulnessand leave your indiscretions in your bed.There, don’t be ashamed to lay your gown asideand press your thigh against a pressing thigh;there take and give deep kisses with your crimson lips;let love contrive a thousand ways of passion;there let delighted words and moans come ceaselessly,and make the mattress quiver with playful motion.But put on with your clothes a face that’s all discretion,and let Shame disavow your shocking deeds.Trick everyone, trick leave me in ignorance;let me enjoy the life of a happy fool.Why must I see so often notes received -- and sent?Why must I see two imprints on your bed,or your hair disarrayed much more than sleep could do?Why must I notice love bites on your neck?You all but flaunt your indiscretions in my face.Think of me, if not of your reputation.I lose my mind, I die, when you confess you’ve sinned;I break out in cold sweat from hand to foot;I love you then, and hate you -- in vain, since I must love you;I wish then I were dead -- and you were too!I won’t investigate or check whatever you tryto I will be thankful to be deceived.But even if I catch you in the very actand look on your disgrace with my own eyes,deny that I have seen what I have clearly seen,and my eyes will agree with what you claim.You’ll win an easy prize from a man who wants to lose,only remember to say, “I didn’t do it.”Since you can gain your victory with one short phrase,win on account of your judge, if not your case.About the Jon Corelis was born in California and grew up in and around Chicago, where he earned a degree in Classical Languages and Literatures at the College of the University of Chicago. He later took a doctorate in Classics at Stanford, and taught Classics and Humanities at Stanford, the University of California, and the University of Minnesota. His poetry, criticism, essays, reviews, and translations have been published in books, magazines, newspapers, and web sites in nine countries, and he has given lectures and readings by invitation in America and Europe.
title: Roman Erotic Elegy
titlecomplete: Roman Erotic Elegy
ratings_count: 1
publisher: Poetry Salzburg