In the following listing the publication dates are mismatched with their versions. Can you arrange them properly? What number 1-21 in the right column matches with A? With B? And so on…
P.S. If you have additional versions of 32 on your shelf do post the version, and the pub date /publisher here—or send it to me via e-mail. Either way…
1969, Vintage: A Division of Random House, The Poems of Catullus, A Bilingual Edition translated by James Michie
Please, Ipsitilla, sugar,
my doll, kid, baby, please
tell me to come this afternoon;
contribute to my ease
by letting no one lock your door,
by staying where you are; what's more,
get set to soothe me, as I choose,
with nine uninterrupted screws.
Whatever gives, don't make me wait:
I'm lying, filled with all I ate,
watching my tunic stand up straight.
1957 Ann Arbor / University of Michigan Press, Catullus. The Complete Poetry, translated by Frank O. Copley
Please, my love, sweet Ipsitilla,
My darling, my own clever girl,
Command my presence at siesta
And if you do, help by ensuring
That no one bolts your outer door
And that you don't go out on impulse
But stay home and prepare for us
Nine uniniterrupted fuctions.
In fact if you're willing command me now.
I lie back after a large lunch
Boring holes in tunic and cloak.
1966, Penguin Classics, THE POEMS OF CATULLUS, Peter Whigham
Call me to you
we'll make love
my gold & jewels
my treasure trove
my sweet Ipsithilla,
when you invite
me lock no doors
nor change your mind
& step outside
but stay at home
& in your room
to come nine times
straight off together,
in fact if you
should want it now
I'll cone at once
for lolling on
the sofa here
with jutting cock
and stuffed with food
I'm ripe for stuffing
my sweet Ipsithilla.
1991, Oxford University Press. World Classics, THE POEMS OF CATULLUS, Guy Lee
4. please, Ipsithilla
my darling, my delight
tell me you'll be home
when I come in the hotly still of noon
tell me and if you tell
be this much kind to me
no lock to block the door
no note "gone out back soon"
stay home and make you ready for me
nine times to feel the pulse of love.
what? you'll be busy?
then tell me now
for I lie full and flat, and feel
love knocking, beating at my passion's door.
1959 Bobbs-Merrill, ODI ET AMO, THE COMPLETE POETRY OF CATULLUS, Roy Arthur Swanson
Dear Ipsitilla, my sweetheart.
My darling, precious, beautiful tart,
Invite me round to be your guest
At noon. Say yes, and i'll request
Another favour: make quite sure
That no one latches the front door
And don't slip out for a breath of air,
But stay inside, please, and prepare
A love-play with nine long acts in it,
No intervals either! Quick, this minute,
Now if you're in the giving mood;
For lying here, full of good food,
I feel a second hunger poke
Up through my tunic and my cloak.
1979, Johns Hopkins, THE POEMS OF CATULLUS, Charles Martin
I entreat you, my sweet Ipsitilla, my darling, my charmer, bid me come and spend the afternoon with you. And if you do bid me, grant me this kindness too,
that no one may bar the panel of your threshhold, nor you yourself have a fancy to go away, but stay at home an have ready for me nine consecutive
copulations. And bid me come at once if you are going to at all: for I'm on my back after lunch, thrusting through tunic and cloak.
1894 Catullus. Carmina. Sir Richard Francis Burton. London. Smithers.[VERSE]
Please, please, please, my darling Ipsithilla,
oh my delicate dish, my clever sweetheart,
please invite me home for the siesta--
and, supposing that you do invite me, make sure
no one happens to bolt and bar your shutters,
and that you don't, on a whim, decide to
go off out: just stay home and prepare for
us nine whole uninterrupted fuckfests.
Fact is, if you're on, ask me at once, I've
lunched, I'm full, flat on my back and bursting
up, up, up, through unershirt and bedclothes!
1894, Catullus. The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus. Leonard C. Smithers. London. Smithers.[PROSE]
Please, my sweet Ipsithilla, my delight, my charmer: order me to come to you at noon. And if you should order this, it will be useful if no one makes fast the
outer door [against me], and don't be minded to go out, but stay at home and prepare for us nine continuous love-makings. In truth if you are minded, give the
order at once: for breakfast over, I lie supine and ripe, poking through both tunic and cloak.
1913-2005, Harvard University Press, Catullus, tranlated by F.W. Cornish, Loeb Classical Library .[PROSE]
I’ll love my Ipsithilla sweetest,
My desires and my Wit the meetest,
So bid me join thy nap o' noon!
Then (after bidding) add the boon
Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare,
Lest thou be led afar to fare;
Nay bide at home, for us prepare
Nine-fold continuous love-delights.
But aught do thou to hurry things,
For dinner-full I lie aback,
And gown and tunic through I crack.
2005, University of California Press, The Poems of Catullus, Peter Green
I beg of you, my sweet, my Ipsitilla,
my darling, my sophisticated beauty,
summon me to a midday assignation;
and, if you're willing, do me one big favor:
don't let another client shoot the door bolt,
and don't decide to suddenly go cruising,
but stay at home & get yourself all ready
for nine--yes, nine--successive copulations!
Honestly, if you want it, give the order:
I've eaten, and I'm sated, supinated!
My prick is poking through my cloak & tunic.
1946, The Poems of Catullus, W&W Norton and Company, Horace Gregory
O Mellow, sweet, delicious little
piece, my Ipsithilla,
I love you dearly.
Tell me to come at noon
and I'll come galloping
at your threshold.
Let no one bar the door today
but stay at home, my little one,
to fit yourself for nine long
bouts of love. And if you're so inclined,
call me at once;
my morning meal is over
and I reclining
my tree of life (your bedfellow)
has risen joyfully tearing through my clothes,
impatient to be at you.
2004, Catullus, Poems of Love and Hate, Bloodaxe Press, Josephine Balmer
List, I charge thee, my gentle Ipsithilla,
Lovely ravisher and my dainty mistress,
Say we'll linger a lazy noon together.
Suits my company? lend a farthing hearing:
See no jealousy make the gate against me,
See no fantasy lead thee out a-roaming.
Keep close chamber; anon in all profusion
Count me kisses again again returning.
Bides thy will? with a sudden haste command me;
Full and wistful, at ease reclin'd, a lover
Here I languish alone, supinely dreaming.
2002, The Complete Poetry of Catullus, The University of Wisconsin Press, David Mulroy
My sweet Hypsithilla, my delight, my merry soul; bid me, like a dear girl, come to you to pass the noon. And if you bid me, add this, that no one bar the gate, that no fancy take you to go abroad, but that you remain at home, and prepare for us no end of amorous delights. But if you agree, summon me immediately, for I am lying on my back after dinner, full, and pampered, and am bursting my tunic and my very cloak.
1866, Stanza 41, Address to Priapus, Algernon Charles Swinburne
XXXII The Rendezvous. To Hypsithilla.
Kind of heart, of beauty bright,
Pleasure's soul, and love's delight,
None by nature graced above thee,
Hypsithilla, let me love thee.
Tell me then, that I shall be
Welcome when I come to thee;
And at noon's inspiring tide
Close thy gate to all beside.
Let no idle wish to roam
Steal thy thought from joys at home;
But prepare thy charms to aid
Every frolic love e'er play'd.
Speed thy message. Day goes fast.
Now's the hour; the banquet's past:
Mid-day suns and goblets flowing
Set my frame with passion glowing.
Spend thee, wanton, fair and free!
Tell me I must haste to thee.
1871, The Poems and Fragments of Catullus, Translated in the Metres of the Original, London: John Murray, Albemarle Street; by Robinson Ellis
My Hypsithilla, charming fair,
My life, my soul, ah! hear my prayer:
The grateful summons quickly send,
And bless at noon, with joy, thy friend.
And if my fair one will comply,
And not her sighing swain deny
Take care the door be then unbarr'd,
And let no spy be on the guard.
And thou, the aim of my desire,
Attend at home my amorous fire.
Prepare to meet repeated joy,
Continued bliss without alloy;
Dissolving still in thy dear arms,
Still raised by thy reviving charms,
To onsets fresh of sprightly pleasure,
Tumultuous joy beyond all measure,
But dally not with my desire,
Nor quash with thy delays of fire,
Bursting with love upon my couch I lie,
Forestalling with desire the distant joy.
1887, Erotica. The Poems of Catullus and Tibullus, and The Vigil of Venus., London George Bell and Sons, York Street, Covent Garden, Walter K. Kelly [PROSE]
What broke off the garlands that girt you?
What sundered you spirit and clay?
Weak sins yet alive are as virtue
To the strength of the sins of that day.
For dried is the blood of thy lover,
Ipsithilla, contracted the vein,
Cry aloud 'Will he rise and recover,
Our Lady of Pain?'
Cry aloud; for the old world is broken:
Cry aloud, for the Phrygian is priest,
And rears not the bountiful token
And spreads not the fairly feast.
From the midmost of Ida, from shady
Recesses that murmur at morn,
They have brought and baptized her, Our Lady,
A goddess new-born.
And the chaplets of old are above us,
And the oyster bed teems out of reach,
Old poets outsing and outlove us,
And Catullus makes mouths at our speech.
Who shall kiss, in thy father's own city,
With such lips as he sang with, again?
Intercede for us all of thy pity,
Our Lady of Pain.
1887, Erotica. The Poems of Catullus and Tibullus, and The Vigil of Venus., London George Bell and Sons, York Street, Covent Garden, Walter K. Kelly (Lamb's verse version)
Be a sweetie, Ipsithilla,
joy and charm personified,
invite me to join in your afternoon nap.
But merely inviting is not enough.
Make certain that nobody locks the door.
Resist your desire to wander the streets.
Stay in the house and prepare to engage
in nine continuous copulations.
If this is agreeable, tell me at once.
I'm lying on my back, digesting my lunch,
and boring a hole in my tunic and cloak.
1887, 1887, Erotica. The Poems of Catullus and Tibullus, and The Vigil of Venus., London George Bell and Sons, York Street, Covent Garden, Walter K. Kelly (Anonymous version)
An Afternoon with Ipsitilla
Please, please me, dear Ipsitilla,
my own sweetness, my so clever,
invite me in for siesta
and I'll come -- but at your leisure.
Don't block your passage, fold down flaps,
slip off out for other pleasures.
Hold on, get set, let's fill the gap:
nine full-time, full-on, fuck-fuckings;
just say you're game, just say you will,
you see I've eaten, had my fill,
yet still my lunch-box is bulging.
1996,The erotic spirit: an anthology of poems of sensuality, love, and longing, Shambala Publications, Inc., Sam Hamill
Ipsithilla, baby girl,
Sugar, honey, let me curl
Up with you this afternoon,
Tell me that I can come soon,
Tell me none will bar your door,
That you're not busy, and what's more
That you will wait for me and choose
To give me nine successive screws.
Oh, don't delay, don't make me wait,
I'm resting, stuffed with all I ate,
Feeling my pecker stand up straight.
1970, Catullus, The Complete Poems for American Readers, E.P. Dutton & CO., INC., New York; Reney Myers and Robert J. Ormsby
Please darling, dear Ipsithilla,
All my pleasure, my only attraction,
Order me to you this afternoon.
And if you do order me, please arrange also
That no one shall get in my was as I enter,
And don't you go off either at the last moment.
But stay at home and organize for us
Nine copulations in rapid series.
If there's anything doing, send round immediately;
For here I am, lying in my bed;
I have had my lunch, the thing sticks out of my tunic.
1966, The Poetry of Catullus, Viking Press, C.H. Sisson
My lovely, sweet Ipsithilla,
my delicious, my passion,
call for me this affternoon.
Please send for me so I may come
And don't sneak off as I enter.
Stay, and wait, and dream up
nine different kinds of copulation
to keep us entertained.
Send for me here, after lunch,
wher I'm supine on my bed
with my cock peeking out from my tunic.