Ovid's Erotic Poems. Ovid

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I say, not as we do: lest someone think So, let your tell-tale cloak slip off and slink. 50 Keep urging him to drink, not kiss. There, draw the line. And while he drinks, in secret add more wine. Then when he’s been put down in just this vinous sleep, Pure chance will show the counsel we’re to keep. When you get up to go and everybody rises, 55 Get thronged about—and wait for my surprises. (You’ll find me in that crowd, or else be found by me: Touch any part of me you cannot see.) But what’s the use? All this is only good for hours, Then night will ban me from you with its powers. 60 At night your husband locks you in, and I, half gone In grief, will stand outside your door till dawn. Cold iron door! That man will kiss—and rub and paw! With you, what’s love with me, with him is law. But give against your will—you can—as if coerced. 65 Show him a deaf, dumb Venus at her worst. Give him no pleasure, if my words have any weight; If not, please don’t be pleased at any rate. But come what may, tomorrow, say in constancy You gave him nothing you have given me. 70

       I.5

One summer afternoon, the sultry day half gone,
I sought my bed to spread my limbs upon,
With half my window opened wide and half shut tight,
Admitting just the softest woodland light—
The faintest gloaming as lord Phoebus starts to go, 5
Or night gives way before the dawn’s faint glow.
(They were the rays in which shy virgins try to hide,
In hopes timidity won’t yield to pride.)
Then came Corinna in her tunic cinched and sheer;
Her fair neck felt her parted hair fall clear. 10
They say Semiramis went to her bed like this,
And Lais, who for countless men meant bliss.
I snatched that tunic from her, and it caused no harm,
But still she fought me for it in alarm.
She fought like one who fought a battle not to win, 15
But struggled weakly, only to give in.
And as she stood, a sweet disorder in her dress,
Her body showed no fault; my eyes said yes.
Such arms I saw and touched—soft, lean and strong, yet fine!
Her round breasts fit two hands—and they were mine! 20
How smooth the rest of her, her legs so soft and lean,
Her waist and thigh as fair as I have seen.
But why describe each charm when every charm I saw
Was lovely, nude? We hugged; I filled with awe.
Who doesn’t know what’s next? Fatigued, we stopped to rest 25
So I might pray, “Make all mid-days so blessed”

       I.6

You there! Yes, you—my darling’s doorman-porter-Janus:
Swing back those hinges crying out “Unchain us!”
I don’t ask much—just leave the door ajar a crack
So I can slip in sideways—and get back.
There’s been so much hard love of late that now, I’m thin 5
Enough and light enough to wriggle in.
And that’s what’s taught me how to tip-toe past the guard:
Love’s suffering. Love makes footsteps soft, not hard.
There was a time when every phantom caused me fright;
I was amazed that men went out at night. 10
Then Cupid, with his tender mother, laughed at me.
He whispered, “You’ll get brave; just wait and see.”
And presto! Love walked in. Now, flighty nighttime spirit,
Or knife that threatens doom, I just don’t fear it.
Instead, it’s you I fear, and you’re the one I flatter, 15
Who threatens thunderous ruin and can batter
My heart. Throw back the bolt so you can see me better.
My tears have

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