ESTNE TIBI, CERINTHE ...
/NE TIBI SIM, MEA LUX ...
IN SICKNESS
/HER APOLOGY
Sulpiciatr. A. S. Kline
Estne tibi, Cerinthe, tuae pia cura puellae,
quod mea nunc vexat corpora fessa calor?
A ego non aliter tristes evincere morbos
optarim, quam te si quoque velle putem.
At mihi quid prosit morbos evincere, si tu
nostra potes lento pectore ferre mala?





Ne tibi sim, mea lux, aeque iam fervida cura
ac videor paucos ante fuisse dies,
si quicquam tota conmisi stulta iuventa,
cuius me fatear paenituisse magis,
hesterna quam te solum quod nocte reliqui,
ardorem cupiens dissimulare meum.
Have you any kind thought for your girl, Cerinthus,
now that fever wastes my weary body?
Ah, otherwise I would not want to conquer
sad illness, if I thought you did not wish it too.
And what use is it to me to conquer illness, if you
can endure my trouble with indifferent heart?





Let me not be such a feverish passion to you, my love,
as I seem to have been a few days ago,
if Iíve done anything in my foolish youth
which Iíve owned to regretting more
than leaving you, alone, last night
wishing to hide the desire inside me.

Transl. Copyright © A. S. Kline


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