Door keeper, bound up (shameful!) with a hard chain,
Set the hinge in motion and unfold the stubborn door.
That which I pray for is small: let the door be half-opened
And admit me through a small gap sideways.
Long love has diminished my body for such practice
And by reducing me size has given me limbs apt for it;
Love shows men how to pass swiftly through the watches of sentries
And guides their unhindered steps.
Yet once I was fearful of the night and its illusory shadows;
I would admire anyone who planned to go out in darkness:
Cupid laughed, for me to hear, with his gentle mother
And softly said “You too shall become brave”.
[There was] no delay, love came: I neither fear shadows who flit by night,
Nor hands unsheathed to inflict my fate:
It is you whom I fear, most unyielding as you are:
You wield the bolt with which you can ruin me.
Look (draw back the cruel bars so that you may see)
How the door has been made wet by my tears.
Certainly when you were standing for a beating with your clothes thrown down,
I brought words to your mistress on your behalf as you trembled.
So, that good will which once had influence for you,
(Alas the outrage!) Does it now have an equal influence for me?
Return my due in turn: here is your chance to show your gratitude.
The hours of the night are passing; remove the bolt from the doorpost.
Remove it: so that you may one day be released from your long-endured chain,
And you may not drink of the water of slavery forever.
You listen to my prayers (in vain) with a heart of iron, door-keeper:
The door is stuck fast, secured by solid oak.
Closed doors are useful as a defence for beseiged cities,
But in the midst of peace why do you fear armed force?
What will you do to an enemy, when you shut out a lover liken this?
The hours of the night are passing; remove the bolt from the doorpost.
I do not come accompanied by soldiers and weapons:
I would be alone, were cruel Love not present;
I could not dismiss him anywhere if I wanted to.
I could even be parted from my own limbs before that.
So Love is with me and a little wine around my temples
And a garland askew upon my well-oiled locks.
Who should fear these weapons? Who would not go against these?
The hours of the night are passing; remove the bolt from the doorpost.
Are you slow, or does sleep, which should wickedly destroy you, repel
The words of a lover from you ear and cast them to the winds?
Yet, I remember, at first when I wanted to elude you,
You were keeping watch for the midnight stars.
And perhaps your girlfriend is resting with you now:
Alas, how much better is your lot than my lot!
Provided that is the case, come over to me hard chains.
The hours of the night are passing; remove the bolt from the doorpost.
Am I deceived, or did the doorposts sound with a driving hinge
And did the shuddering door give a telling groan?
I am deceived: the door was struck by an ardent wind.
Ah me! How far the gentle breeze has carried my hopes!
If you recall clearly, Boreas, the carrying off of Orithyia,
Come here and beat those unresponsive doors with your gale.
The whole city is silent, and wet with glittering dew
The hours of the night are passing; remove the bolt from the doorpost.
Or I shall myself, ready as I am, with iron and with fire
Which I hold up in my torch, attack your proud dwelling.
Night and Love and Wine advise no restraint:
The first is free from shame, Wine and Love from fear.
I have tried everything, and I have not swayed you with prayers
And threats, oh you who are harder than your own doors.
You are not fit to guard a beautiful girl's
Doorstep, you deserve the care of a prison.
And now the Morning Star moves his frosty wheels,
And the cock arouses wretched people for their work.
But you, garland torn down from my not happy hair,
Lie upon the hard threshold for the whole night.
To my mistress – when, in the morning, she sees you thrown down –
You will be the evidence of the time which I so miserably wasted.
Farewell whatever kind of man [you are] and feel the honour of my leaving,
Unbending man and disgraceful for not admitting a lover, farewell.
You also, cruel doorposts with rigid threshold
And doors of unfeeling timber, fellow slaves, goodbye.
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ianitor (indignum) dura religate catena,
difficilem moto cardine pande forem.
quod precor, exiguum est: aditu fac ianua parvo
obliquum capiat semiadaperta latus.
longus amor tales corpus tenuavit in usus
aptaque subducto pondere membra dedit;
ille per excubias custodum leniter ire
monstrat: inoffensos derigit ille pedes.
at quondam noctem simulacraque vana timebam;
mirabar, tenebris quisquis iturus erat:
risit, ut audirem, tenera cum matre Cupido
et leviter 'fies tu quoque fortis' ait.
nec mora, venit amor: non umbras nocte volantis,
non timeo strictas in mea fata manus;
te nimium lentum timeo, tibi blandior uni:
tu, me quo possis perdere, fulmen habes.
adspice (uti videas, inmitia claustra relaxa)
uda sit ut lacrimis ianua facta meis.
certe ego, cum posita stares ad verbera veste,
ad dominam pro te verba tremente tuli.
ergo quae valuit pro te quoque gratia quondam,
heu facinus! pro me nunc valet illa parum?
redde vicem meritis! grato licet esse quod optas.
tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram.
excute: sic, inquam, longa relevere catena,
nec tibi perpetuo serva bibatur aqua.
ferreus orantem nequiquam, ianitor, audis:
roboribus duris ianua fulta riget.
urbibus obsessis clausae munimina portae
prosunt; in media pace quid arma times?
quid facies hosti, qui sic excludis amantem?
tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram.
non ego militibus venio comitatus et armis:
solus eram, si non saevus adesset Amor;
hunc ego, si cupiam, nusquam dimittere possum:
ante vel a membris dividar ipse meis.
ergo Amor et modicum circa mea tempora vinum
mecum est et madidis lapsa corona comis.
arma quis haec timeat? quis non eat obvius illis?
tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram.
lentus es: an somnus, qui te male perdat, amantis
verba dat in ventos aure repulsa tua?
at, memini, primo, cum te celare volebam,
pervigil in mediae sidera noctis eras.
forsitan et tecum tua nunc requiescit amica:
heu, melior quanto sors tua sorte mea!
dummodo sic, in me durae transite catenae.
tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram.
fallimur, an verso sonuerunt cardine postes
raucaque concussae signa dedere fores?
fallimur—inpulsa est animoso ianua vento.
ei mihi, quam longe spem tulit aura meam!
si satis es raptae, Borea, memor Orithyiae,
huc ades et surdas flamine tunde foris.
urbe silent tota, vitreoque madentia rore
tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram,
aut ego iam ferroque ignique paratior ipse,
quem face sustineo, tecta superba petam.
nox et Amor vinumque nihil moderabile suadent:
illa pudore vacat, Liber Amorque metu.
omnia consumpsi, nec te precibusque minisque
movimus, o foribus durior ipse tuis.
non te formosae decuit servare puellae
limina, sollicito carcere dignus eras.
iamque pruinosus molitur Lucifer axes,
inque suum miseros excitat ales opus.
at tu, non laetis detracta corona capillis,
dura super tota limina nocte iace;
tu dominae, cum te proiectam mane videbit,
temporis absumpti tam male testis eris.
qualiscumque vale sentique abeuntis honorem,
lente nec admisso turpis amante, vale.
vos quoque, crudeles rigido cum limine postes
duraque conservae ligna, valete, fores.
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