A Marcus Valerius Martial I have one for you special sympathy. The second year of my degree at the university encouraged me a lot, when despite studying F. Inglesa, I had Latin in the first two courses with one of those bone teachers that mark a student life. His epigrams were far above boring Aenida who played the first year or the Catilinaries of Cicero. He, Horacio and Ovidio they are my favorite classical poets. Today I highlight some of those epigrams that were his greatest creation.
Marcus Valerius Martial
Bilbilitan of birth (the current Calatayud), about the year 64 d. C. went to Rome to complete their legal studies under the protection of Seneca. But his fall from grace and his subsequent suicide dragged him down. This is how it looked forced to survive in a bohemian way as a client of various patrons. But in return he had the friendship of the greatest writers of that time as Pliny the Younger or the also satirical Juvenal.
In Rome
He also obtained the favor of the brother emperors Titus and Domitian, to whom he dedicated several and interested compliments. They named him member of the equestrian order and won various honors, among them the exemption from taxes that those who did not have children had to pay. But the same did not happen with Nerva and Trajano and had to return to Bílbilis. There he returned to rural life, which was one of his great dreams and to which he dedicated several compositions.
Construction
Marcial's work it has been preserved practically intact Fortunately. With fifteen books of verses, are a total of about fifteen hundred poems belonging to a single literary genre, the epigram, in which he had no rival in his time.
Epigrams
I choose a few on the life, death and friendship, in addition to other erotic, satire and social criticism in addition to enemies or ambitious. And I finish with one of his elegies most famous.
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To be able to enjoy the memories of life is to live twice.
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If glory comes after death, I'm in no rush.
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Believe me, it is not wise to say 'I will live' tomorrow is too late: live today.
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The book you recite, Fidentino, is mine; But when you recite it wrong, it starts to be yours.
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Why don't I send you, Pontiliano, my little books?
So that you, Pontiliano, don't send me yours.
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Although you don't publish your poems, you criticize mine, Lelio.
Either stop criticizing mine or post yours.
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Save your praise for the dead
You never appreciate a living poet.
Excuse me, I prefer to continue living
to have your praise.
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Tais has black teeth, Lecania white as snow.
Which is the reason? This one has bought some, that one hers.
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The one who calls you vicious is lying, Zoilo.
You are not a vicious man, Zoilo, but vice itself.
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Do not be surprised at anything that rejects
your invitation
for a dinner of three hundred, Nestor:
I don't like dining alone.
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Until recently he was a doctor, now Diaulo is an undertaker;
what he did as an undertaker he had also done as a doctor.
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When your slave hurts his minga, you, Névolo, your ass hurts.
I'm not a fortune teller, but I know what you do.
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You have a minga as big as your nose,
so that every time it goes into an erection, you can smell it.
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Lesbia swears she's never been fucked for free.
It's true. When she wants to be fucked, she usually pays.
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To you Fronton and Flacila, her parents, this girl I entrust,
Little Erotion, enjoy my lips
and my delights, so that the fear of the black darkness can overcome
and to the monstrous jaws of the Tartar dog.
He would have seen the ice of his sixth winter melt,
with which he had lived the same number of days.
That among so venerable protectors play and frolic eternally
and speak my name with stammering lips.
Shaggy grass, do not cover their soft bones forever.
Earth, do not be heavy: she was not for you.