O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine,
(For style thee "Tiburs" who have not at heart
To hurt Catullus, whereas all that have
Wage any wager thou be Sabine classed)
But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer 5
To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain
And fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd cough
Which not unmerited on me my maw,
A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.
For I requesting to be Sestius' guest 10
Read against claimant Antius a speech,
Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.
Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent cough
Shook me till fled I to thy bosom, where
Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills. 15
Wherefore recruited now best thanks I give
To thee for nowise punishing my sins:
Nor do I now object if noisome writs
Of Sestius hear I, but that cold and cough
And rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius' self 20
Who asks me only his ill writs to read.
O, Homestead of ours, whether Sabine or Tiburtine (for that thou'rt
Tiburtine folk concur, in whose heart 'tis not to wound Catullus; but those
in whose heart 'tis, will wager anything thou'rt Sabine) but whether Sabine
or more truly Tiburtine, o'erjoyed was I to be within thy rural
country-home, and to cast off an ill cough from my chest, which--not
unearned--my belly granted me, for grasping after sumptuous feeds. For, in
my wish to be Sestius' guest, his defence against the plaintiff Antius,
crammed with venom and pestilent dulness, did I read through. Hence a chill
heavy rheum and fitful cough shattered me continually until I fled to thine
asylum, and brought me back to health with rest and nettle-broth.
Wherefore, re-manned, I give thee utmost thanks, that thou hast not avenged
my fault. Nor do I pray now for aught but that, should I re-take Sestius'
nefarious script, its frigid vapidness may bring a cold and cough to
Sestius' self; for he but invites me when I read dull stuff.