Catullus: Poem 27 "To His Wine-Bearer" (From Latin)

Poem 27: To His Wine-Bearer
By Gaius Valerius Catullus
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Come boy, and serve me that rich vintage  
  The Old Campanian wine.
Pour me a strong drink. With more spirit  
  Better this bowl of mine.
Postumia the party-mistress  
  Full of more alcohol
Than these drunk grapes, demands as much.  
  It is her judgment call.
But you, weak water, great diluter,  
  Polluter of the vine,
Come nowhere near my grape-kissed lips  
  Nor touch this bowl of mine.
Be sobering with sober men,  
  And get out of my sight
For I will drink, and only drink   
  Red Bacchus straight tonight.

The Original:

Minister vetulī puer Falernī,
inger mī calicēs amāriōrēs,
ut lēx Postumiae iubet magistrae
ēbriōsō acīnō ēbriōsiōris.
at vōs quō lubet hinc abīte, lymphae,
vīnī perniciēs, et ad sevērōs
migrāte. Hīc merus est Thyōniānus.

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