Wretched Catulle, stop the stupid folly
And learn lost what you see is gone,
Aflame were once for you white suns
When you used to go where the girl invited
– Beloved by me as shall again be none -
Herself, with whom were many joys embodied
Which you did lust for, nor did she refuse,

Aflame for sure for you white suns!

Now she says no; what else but follow suit?
Nor chase what runs from you, nor live a wretch,
But make your mind be stubborn, strong, and stick it out!

Goodbye the girl! Catullus still shall stick it out!
Nor will he ask for you nor say your name unasked,
You will be sorry when no-one says your name.
Go, ****! What life have you got left?
Who now will come to you? Who see your beauty?
Who will you now love? Whose will you be?
Your kiss of passion whose? The bitten lip?

But you, Catulle, your future’s coming! Stick it out!