Catullus 12

Marrucinus Asinius, your left hand
you use not beautifully: in joke and in wine
you lift the napkins of the more careless people.
You think this is witty? It escapes you, inept one:
the thing is as dirty and as un-charming as can be.
You don't believe me? Believe your brother Pollio,
who wants to change your thefts
even for a talent—for he is a boy
stuffed of charm and wit.
Therefore either expect 300 poems,
or send my napkin to me,
which doesn't move me because of price,
but because it is a souvenir of my friend.
For the Saetaban cloths from Spain
as a gift to me sent Fabullus
and Veranius; it is necessary that I love these
as I love my dear Veranius and Fabullus.

Marrucine Asini, manu sinistra
non belle uteris: in ioco atque vino
tollis lintea neglegentiorum.
Hoc salsum esse putas? Fugit te, inepte:
quamvis sordida res et invenusta est.
Non credis mihi? Crede Pollioni
fratri, qui tua furta vel talento
mutari velit—est enim leporum
differtus puer ac facetiarum.
Quare aut hendecasyllabos trecentos
exspecta, aut mihi linteum remitte,
quod me no movet aestimatione,
verum est mnemosynum mei sodalis.
Nam sudaria Saetaba ex Hiberis
miserunt mihi muneri Fabullus
et Veranius; haec amem necesse est
ut Veraniolum meum et Fabullum.

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12.2
12.3
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12.6
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