Nor doth that man who keeps away from love Yet lack the fruits of Venus; rather takes Those pleasures which are free of penalties.
For the delights of Venus, verily, Are more unmixed for mortals sane-of-soul Than for those sick-at-heart with love-pining.
Yea, in the very moment of possessing, Surges the heat of lovers to and fro, Restive, uncertain; and they cannot fix On what to first enjoy with eyes and hands.
The parts they sought for, those they squeeze so tight, And pain the creature's body, close their teeth Often against her lips, and smite with kiss Mouth into mouth,- because this same delight Is not unmixed; and underneath are stings Which goad a man to hurt the very thing, Whate'er it be, from whence arise for him Those germs of madness. But with gentle touch Venus subdues the pangs in midst of love, And the admixture of a fondling joy Doth curb the bites of passion. For they hope That by the very body whence they caught The heats of love their flames can be put out.
But nature protests 'tis all quite otherwise;For this same love it is the one sole thing Of which, the more we have, the fiercer burns The breast with fell desire. For food and drink Are taken within our members; and, since they Can stop up certain parts, thus, easily Desire of water is glutted and of bread.
But, lo, from human face and lovely bloom Naught penetrates our frame to be enjoyed Save flimsy idol-images and vain-A sorry hope which oft the winds disperse.
As when the thirsty man in slumber seeks To drink, and water ne'er is granted him Wherewith to quench the heat within his members, But after idols of the liquids strives And toils in vain, and thirsts even whilst he gulps In middle of the torrent, thus in love Venus deludes with idol-images The lovers. Nor they cannot sate their lust By merely gazing on the bodies, nor They cannot with their palms and fingers rub Aught from each tender limb, the while they stray Uncertain over all the body. Then, At last, with members intertwined, when they Enjoy the flower of their age, when now Their bodies have sweet presage of keen joys, And Venus is about to sow the fields Of woman, greedily their frames they lock, And mingle the slaver of their mouths, and breathe Into each other, pressing teeth on mouths-Yet to no purpose, since they're powerless To rub off aught, or penetrate and pass With body entire into body- for oft They seem to strive and struggle thus to do;So eagerly they cling in Venus' bonds, Whilst melt away their members, overcome By violence of delight. But when at last Lust, gathered in the thews, hath spent itself, There come a brief pause in the raging heat-But then a madness just the same returns And that old fury visits them again, When once again they seek and crave to reach They know not what, all powerless to find The artifice to subjugate the bane.
In such uncertain state they waste away With unseen wound.
To which be added too, They squander powers and with the travail wane;Be added too, they spend their futile years Under another's beck and call; their duties Neglected languish and their honest name Reeleth sick, sick; and meantime their estates Are lost in Babylonian tapestries;And unguents and dainty Sicyonian shoes Laugh on her feet; and (as ye may be sure)Big emeralds of green light are set in gold;And rich sea-purple dress by constant wear Grows shabby and all soaked with Venus' sweat;And the well-earned ancestral property Becometh head-bands, coifs, and many a time The cloaks, or garments Alidensian Or of the Cean isle. And banquets, set With rarest cloth and viands, are prepared-And games of chance, and many a drinking cup, And unguents, crowns and garlands. All in vain, Since from amid the well-spring of delights Bubbles some drop of bitter to torment Among the very flowers- when haply mind Gnaws into self, now stricken with remorse For slothful years and ruin in baudels, Or else because she's left him all in doubt By launching some sly word, which still like fire Lives wildly, cleaving to his eager heart;Or else because he thinks she darts her eyes Too much about and gazes at another,-And in her face sees traces of a laugh.
These ills are found in prospering love and true;But in crossed love and helpless there be such As through shut eyelids thou canst still take in-Uncounted ills; so that 'tis better far To watch beforehand, in the way I've shown, And guard against enticements. For to shun A fall into the hunting-snares of love Is not so hard, as to get out again, When tangled in the very nets, and burst The stoutly-knotted cords of Aphrodite.
Yet even when there enmeshed with tangled feet, Still canst thou scape the danger-lest indeed Thou standest in the way of thine own good, And overlookest first all blemishes Of mind and body of thy much preferred, Desirable dame. For so men do, Eyeless with passion, and assign to them Graces not theirs in fact. And thus we see Creatures in many a wise crooked and ugly The prosperous sweethearts in a high esteem;And lovers gird each other and advise To placate Venus, since their friends are smit With a base passion- miserable dupes Who seldom mark their own worst bane of all.
The black-skinned girl is "tawny like the honey";The filthy and the fetid's "negligee";
The cat-eyed she's "a little Pallas," she;The sinewy and wizened's "a gazelle";
The pudgy and the pigmy is "piquant, One of the Graces sure"; the big and bulky O she's "an Admiration, imposante";The stuttering and tongue-tied "sweetly lisps";The mute girl's "modest"; and the garrulous, The spiteful spit-fire, is "a sparkling wit";And she who scarcely lives for scrawniness Becomes "a slender darling"; "delicate"Is she who's nearly dead of coughing-fit;The pursy female with protuberant breasts She is "like Ceres when the goddess gave Young Bacchus suck"; the pug-nosed lady-love "A Satyress, a feminine Silenus";The blubber-lipped is "all one luscious kiss"-A weary while it were to tell the whole.
