Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK NINE
LII
TO QUINTUS OVIDIUS ON HIS BIRTHDAY
I LOVE you, Quintus, and revere your birthday, holding it as
dear,
Aye dearer than mine own;
And if both March and April are marked in love's loyal
calendar
With pearls and precious stone,
Your April I must rank above my March because one gave
me love,
The other life alone.
LIII
TO THE SAME
QUINTUS, a little birthday gift I planned,
But you refuse and nothing will persuade you;
Well, reconcile my wish and your command
By giving me the gift I should have made you.
* LIV
WITH A PRESENT OF FOWLS
IF I lived in Picenum and fattened field-fares,
Or a Sabine laid out in the woods my meshed snares:
If a fowler's long rod gained for me its light prey,
Or if birds on limed twigs were for me forced to stay,
Then, Cams, my kinship would give you your due;
Neither brother nor grandsire should come before you.
As it is, o'er my fields only starlings take wing,
And finches and chattering sparrows in spring,
To the magpie's loud call my rough ploughman replies
And the ravening kite flies aloft to the skies.
So now these poor fowl from my farmyard I send:
Pray accept them and be my good kinsman and friend.
LV
THE RECIPIENT
ONE brace of birds for Stella, one for you,
Were ready for the ' Kinsman's feast ' to send,
When rose before my mind a clamorous crew
Of spectres, claiming each to be my friend;
I cannot send to all, to give to two,
As I had purposed, might be to offend;
So, to oblige all round and seem impartial,
I now propose to give both brace to Martial!
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