Bring cruel Mother of scurrilous
desires and Theban Liber and
you, leering Licentia me
back now the jeering ghosts of all past
loves, for Glycera's body, paler
than parian stone, the graces, the
wiles it enfolds
haunts me-and she knows it, she knows.
Clearly the Cyprian means to ruin
me utterly and no prattle on
war or war's horses
may supercede her theme.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem