Here is a variation on Catullus’ Poem 51, with a nod to his inspiration, Sappho.
Read by Cristina Anason Lewis.
Catullus, Poem 51
Illa mī pār esse deae vidētur,
illa, sī fās est, superāre dīvās,
quae sedēns adversus identidem tē
spectat et audit
dulce rīdentem, miserae quod omnīs
ēripit sēnsūs mihi: nam simul tē,
Lesbia, aspexī, nihil est super mī
vōcis in ōre,
lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artūs
flamma dēmānat, sonitū suōpte
tintinant aurēs, geminā teguntur
lūmina nocte.
She has the look of a goddess, that lady there – no, if I can say this, she outdoes even goddesses – that girl sat opposite, the one eyeing you and lapping up your sweet laughter. I, poor wretch, am losing my senses. One look, Lesb, I cannot speak, my tongue grows numb, a heat trickles down my limbs, my ears have a tingling of their own, and both eyes are lost in darkness.
Music by Bob Bradley, Paul Clarvis and Thomas Balmforth. Translation and recording © The Latin Qvarter 2020