Catullus Poem 76
Si qua recordanti benefacta priora voluptas
est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium,
nec sanctam violasse fidem, nec foedere in ullo
divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines,
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle,
ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi.
nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt
aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt:
omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti.
quare cur tu te iam amplius excrucies?
quin tu animo offirmas atque istinc teque reducis
et dis invitis desinis esse miser?
difficile est longum subito deponere amorem;
difficile est, verum hoc qua libet efficias.
una salus haec est, hoc est tibi pervincendum;
hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote.
o di, si vestrum est misereri, aut si quibus unquam
extremam iam ipsa in morte tulistis opem,
me miserum adspicite et, si vitam puriter egi,
eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi!
hei mihi subrepens imos ut torpor in artus
expulit ex omni pectore laetitias.
non iam illud quaero, contra ut me diligat illa,
aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit:
ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum.
o di, reddite mi hoc pro pietate mea.
If there is any pleasure for a man recollecting previous good deeds
when he reflects that he is dutiful
and he has not violated the sacred faith and that he hasn’t
abused the will of the gods in order to trick people in any agreement
then the many enjoyments that you have gotten remain in long life Catullus,
out of this unpleasant love for you.
for whatever men are taken able to say well to anyone or able to do
these things were said and were done by you
all things have perished which have been entrusted to an ungrateful mind
therefore why will you torture yourself further now?
Why do you not stand firm in mind bring yourself back by yourself from that place,
and with the gods unwilling stop being wretched
it is difficult to suddenly put down a long love
it is difficult, but you should do this in whatever way is pleasing
this is the one safety this must be overcome by you
do this whether it is possible or not possible
O gods, if it is yours to feel pity, or if you ever carried
a final aid to anyone in death itself
catch sight of wretched me and if I have lived life purely
then snatch this plague and destruction from me,
which creeping up on me as a numbness into the lowest part of my limbs
expelled joys from all my heart
I no longer seek that she cherish me in return
or because it is impossible that she could consent to remain chaste
I want myself to be well and put away this foul disease
O gods return this to me in exchange for my devotion