A poem from Serlo

Translated letter:

Since you ask for our song, which you know is of no use,
what is the fruit?  what the honor?  fearful, I attempt to write to you.
Let me not disrupt your city fertile with verses,
that you would have me turn my scorn-worthy care,
when the songs of your poet are far better.
He will ridicule me, if I am not mistaken, when he sees,
your Maro, what the the pedestrian speech offers.
But I note what writings are uttered with such a promise,
that you might rightly wish to supply the ear with these words.
Though the rustic song might perhaps be useful to you,                    10
do not take care to weigh the empty weight of the base pen,
do not look at the form of the meter, but the norm of the content.
O excellent sister, your fire impells many,
to join you in the contract of the chosen seed bed,
but seeing them frail and therefore scorning their contracts,
you enter the contract of the spouse for whom there is no end.
Having got rid of transitory things you are joined
to the golden bed of the highest leader with happy fate.
I praise your counsel, prudent sister, and I applaud you,
that you acquire such a spouse in place of a mortal [one].                  20
Who will never perish, whom no term stops,
and instead of a swiftly perishing and corruptible husband,
whose beauty flourishes only a short while, you take the one
who remains and has remained, is not deterred, does not cross over,
who gives you heavenly kingdoms for a base couch,
laughter for tears, Paradise for laments.
To the union you have there can be no fall,
if you wish to carry out what a faithful spouse owes.
Therefor for the splendor of that marriage-bed to be bestowed,
you cannot corrupt the heavenly contract,                                          30
nor think of deceit, but be known to that spouse alone.
Since he is so worthy of faith, keep the pledge to him,
do not believe the enemy whose temptations you know,
who never ceases to arouse you to vain things.
The greater the virtue, the more the rough plunderer burns
to set snares  for virtue and employ frauds.
The more one who, scornful leaves the depths behind, rages against him
and clings to the heights, if constancy fails,
pushed by the enemy, he falls as he moves through slippery places.
Harming the prey, he whose weapons are many.                                40
. . .
O you enemy . . .
Let a rigid post not stop you . . .
Do not divert your course, but always look back,
and resolved seek God that he give you the trophy for defeating the enemy.
Do not follow evil, longing for transitory beauties.
When you feel the motion of your mind advancing boldly,
let this which I have written for you give you force [to move] onward.
The mind wanders and dulls, not knowing that it should
value pure flesh for love of the highest King.                                                50
Therefor you should bear equal masses of whatever tedium,
O if you had married, how much heavier it would have been.
Virgin, do you think married women are blessed?
Knowing nothing, she might wish to take a husband.
Now about matrons, what their condition is,
hear, I beg, a little, since you do not know their life,
so that you may scarcely ever after say they are happy.
A woman submits to iron laws at the time she marries;
she does not escape punishment since an alien law oppresses her;
she does not please her husband unless she keeps a wondrous order.60
Having contracted nuptials to a famous … husband;
when she offers her husband all that a woman owes,
nothing is altogether suitable  to the will of the lord,
she will be worse tortured than any handmaid.
Is she beautiful?  she swiftly becomes suspect to the husband,
from tenuous cause, having dared no crime,
yet she will bear the harsh words of the crime as if convicted,
as he rages not only by word, but with bitter beating.
The husband loosing slings in punishment of his spouse,
because she touches the boundary, or looks at him,                           70
whose beauty shines, after a long time [she] might avoid
the encounter of the raging husband, like some bear.
If she puts on clothes, if she takes up suitable coverings,
or looks at combs, the spouse when he sees such things
with the credulous mind of the wicked, reels with heavy suspicion.
He finds everything done by her harmful.
On a feast day, anxious, she hides with a sad face,
whom the imprisoning husband encloses; while the assembly applauds,
the whole house rejoices, she offers nothing nor does she dare.
What can she offer whom such a cruel law terrifies?                         80
And she sighs and weeps and prays with frequent pain;
that either she might rest in the life she has entered,
. . .  strong … if [she] touches the divinities
. . . death of sorrow,
. . . the tomb as the dower for the beautiful body;
or distress furrows the face with lines of wrinkles
and loses the flower and rosey beauty.
. . . that beauty perishes, and now the husband seeks new pledges;
not having dared openly, he stealthily attacks the beauty.
He undertakes hidden attack of the wretch with adultery;                90
[against] her, who before was a flower, he warms in fury,
having loosened the bonds of the marriage bed, he imputes to the mouth of his spouse
what is now filthy that before was indeed admirable.
But as the frost deformed the lovely rose,
so a harsh hand, heavy with anger, and profane fury,
does the flesh, broken by beatings over a long time;
shame does not slow him, now he only burns harder.
He is not at ease, unless she languish, and miserably
[his] speech or look deeply disturbs her breast.
Marital piety is such in the spouse                                                      100     
that he denies consolation, and sends her far from their dwelling,
or pierces her side with a sword, whom he avoids touching and hates.
He rejoices and rarely, the miser, bestows the bridal bed on her,
who while enflamed to extend the mass of his property,
is zealous with great passion to add money to money .
He burns for acquisition, with the raging fire of Cupid,
not indulging the stomach, not shining in the covering,
the woman he desires he does not clothe with that covering.
He does not offer her the thinnest food, being very stingy,
the man who so burns, if the woman is slow to render                                  110
what remains at the table, he flies wild with the sword,
and moves bitter wars for a vile morsel,
constraining the bride; is it not a huge disgrace,
that the kinswoman is so pressed for a little crumb?
If, at the happy displays and games which age draws on,
she applauds the players, right away she hears the voice of the spouse:
“Silly, ignorant wife, why do you play, scorning serious things?
“This game shows where your concern is;
“This game shows where your understanding tends.
“Let your care be on the hearth; let jesting levity be absent.                        120
“Keep what has accumulated, accumulate what is diffused.”
He urges that abundance not sustain the handmaid
or that she live with happy face and quiet heart.
 . . . she deplores or . . . prays,
for any wife [lives] this or worse life.
It is scarcely a worthy thing that the light mind longs for these,
The pleasant coupling of the marriage bed to be had vehemently for shame,
what is sweet to the heart is yet harmful to the heart,
because the happier it is, the less pure the coupling is.
It is contrary to virtue to use such things,                                           130
or does the honorable mind desire the stink of loose mud?
In that intercourse brief indulgence charms the brides,
then the pain of childbirth so undoes the broken joints,
that she wants to die rather than be subject to such pain,
the violence of fate repays this indulgence.
The mother resists death when the pledge is born;
living after birth, she carries a heavy weight, and the road is twisted,
she prepares sad care for herself and an unavoidable heap [of care],
the woman in labor gives birth to a child and two-fold fear.
The grave care of nourishing children presses her,                             140
and she is quite plagued in the breast by suckling new-borns;
with difficulty she loosens the skin of her breasts, if you were to touch them
filthy, obscene, and filled with a river of milk.
She washes clothes, the labor increasing over the years,
how she cleans the children, I would recite, but shame presses.
Perhaps you might say beggars live by this compact;
yet not those who are in villages, towns.
Abundance as it enriches perhaps enriches such things,
but to some extent contaminates her life worse.
She lacks all praise, unless she is subject to Venus;                            150
and unless the rich woman admits her fellow citizens.
If she lives chastely, she deprives herself of a famous name;
she is said to be ignorant and rough with crude habits,
worthy of an impoverished man, she would feel the need of harsh crime.
This is the common judgment of the loathsome crowd,
that she knows nothing unless she becomes a filthy adulterer.
Whom rage burns, who is horrified by nothing that she loves,
and is swiftly trapped, she becomes worthy of Jove as a husband.
The purple she wears, Venus wears to burn more;
Who married a bull shone with jewels and gold.                                160
What is your bride, Nero?  But why do I seek earlier evils?
More are tainted with this crime in [our] savage age;
They are more exalted who flourish at the height of fate.
Therefore with faith broken, there is crime in married wealth,
In poverty, labor and pain and ruin.
. . . if sad fate should sieze the sweet infant,
. . . so it perishes by a mournful immoderate fate
. . . weeping  that he is taken away against her will whom she nourished at her breast,
if grave labor or pain clings to this, and she mourns
that the pledge is not safe, that comes from her belly.                       170     
Matrons live under such condition[s].
But there is nothing that I do, which the bitter woman (virago) would tolerate,
that I believe cannot be carried by word,
what I think is to be fled by one seeking to live safely.
Lacking that burden, sing so much with happy melody,
moreover that the fate of liberty is given to you.
And rejoicing at the coming hope, and free of harsh
weight and such that would be grave to think about.
Tired by the labor of the crowd, assume the consolation of labor,
brides are subject to greater rigor,                                                       180
and bear more evil, subject to such a prison,
whose enclosure is a bitter kind of fate.
Compared with so many evils, the nun who wishes life,
if she thinks rightly, would hold the claustral yoke light.
Why should she not be well otherwise, the [monastic] law would not remove from her
that the sweetness of sleep refreshes at certain hours,
that repels hunger with food, cold with the [monastic] habit.
If she gains no wealth, if she thinks about neither,
since she pours out no sweat, it flows back both ways,
God so enriches her, if she wishes to avoid what is harmful,             190
all parts of the whole vow respond.
Having pursued the course of each to the goals,
This one endures, that one perishes, that one flees what the other seeks.
This one will never turn back, never be subject to infernal caves,
flames, bad smells, shadows, torments, pains;
what is heavy, what brings cruelty, and will through all time.
That one having received many adornments, beyond all who were born,
with more flourishing prize she will remain with nourishing people.
This one you might always turn, you would not loose the bonds of the rule,
to tolerate which you would not wish for one hour,                          200
for the fortune of Priam; labor to avoid the flames                           
to suffer which without end is a miserable kind of fate,
and learning to proceed to the kingdom not by slow foot,
you would seek certain rewards, which age does not diminish.
When you discern eternal things well, you scorn the temporary;
if you think of heavenly things, you hold nothing failing;
what always endures, if one takes care to bring it together,
that …you …
as this is less, may the manner be absent that …
to the brief moment compare now one hundred centuries,                210
how much a moment is less than a hundred centuries.
That may be known if the thing is counted carefully.
But embrace this lest one with equal reasons,
not pondering so much that you can say how much,
that in this brief time of life the extent of time may be longer.
Choose what lasts, let nothing that perishes consume you,
let your hope not be in those ends which tend to dissolve.
Let no care for your relatives touch you;
not sister or brother, not even father or mother.
No one loves truly, be moved by the love of no one.                         220
The mother loving the newborn weeps for the lamentable fate of the child;
nor does it yet touch him whom sorrow and anxiety strike.
What sorrow!  gold things are in horror most like a flower;
charming earlier with sweet laughter . . . [later] horrid to the sight.
What before was a rose is now a burdensome mass;
vile, seeking the depths, heavy to all, horrid, stinking.
The iron law of death so rules all who are born,
that what shines in life, in death all avoid,
nor do they think they should be touched, but reject them as cursed.
If, seeking, you persist, accustomed to be a survivor of the parent,   230
you avoid suffering a long time after the death of the child,
and without great mourning having buried the father of the child.
They fight among themselves so that they may bring wealth under their yoke,
and such fighting so increases with discord,
that they prostrate themselves, and blind with cupidity they spurn [others].
With little fraternal mercy, crimes of murder,
oh greatest outrage, to put wealth before a brother!
So brother to brother, so the daughter serves her mother,
to whom the fates give full purses with generous sense,
so many faithful slaves you see run after it.                                       240
If fortune moves storms emptying cells,
and withdraws the reward, not one of . . . remains.
From this one may know that property is so loved,
no one in want is loved, what nation of the world, what people,
does not have these customs or much worse.
Thus every man loves; do you know why I bring out such things?
Let your mind not go back to the filth of the world.
With such a pact drawn from the whirlwind of the world,
I write the truth, but only the tiniest part of things.
. . .                                                                                                    250
. . . I unfold, but you well know the rest.                                          
. . . turn with much care to these words.
Let the work not be what I do, not the image of the part said.
Meanwhile meditate with deep heart more about the world.
Grant that these worldly things are very vain,
nor could true vanities move the pure heart.
Then it will be apparent, your mind will lack filth,
when you neglect the people of the fatherland and relatives,
take care if you look back at the small but sweet fields,
to reject the natal lands where you wander again.                              260
If you look well at the thing, you do not turn to this road from now on.
Stay here in this place, cultivate those who tend the hours,
to use these ends is not to your health, virgin.
You would give opportunities to the enemy if you turned back.
You would hear more often what would take your strength,
and a vain look would corrupt your breast.
The secret places of your mind would be shaken by Satanic winds,
if you wished to abandon the comforts of the cloister;
if you avoid the return, you enrich yourself with great strength,
and you feel yourself always needing the wealth of the ruler.             270
For no one conquers except with the favor of the highest king.
Trusting in his care direct your weapons,
do not otherwise shatter the learned phalanxes in war,
the necks which you break, and you will touch the rewards of life.
We beg, pray for our weakness,
this will be good for us, nor will it, I think, hurt you.
 

Original letter:

Dum nostrum poscis carmen, quod inutile noscis,
Quis fructus?  quis honor? trepidus tibi scribere conor.
Ne vestram turbem faecundam [facundam] versibus urbem,
Indignaturam quod habes mea volvere curam,
Cum merliora satis sint vestri carmina vatis.
Me deridebit, ni fallor, quando videbit,
Ille Maro vester, quae profert sermo pedester.  
Sed quae scripta noto tali sunt edita voto,
His ut jure velis aurem praebere loquelis.
Carmen agreste licet tibi forsitan utile dicet,                        10
Pondus inane styli ne cures pendere vili,
Nec metri formam, sed rerum perspice normam.
O soror insignis, multos tuus impulit ignis,
Germinis electi foedus tibi jungere lecti,
Quos fragiles cernens, et ob hoc sua foedera spernens,
Sponsi foedus inis quem nescit claudere finis.
Summi namque ducis rebus divulsa caducis,
Es connexa toro fatis felicibus oro.
Consilium laudo, prudens soror, et tibi plaudo,
Cum pro mortali potiaris conjuge tali.                                      20
Qui nunquam marcet, quem nullus terminus arcet,
Et pereunte cito corruptibilique marito,
Cujus pauxillum floret decor, accipis illum
Qui manet ac mansit, nec deteritur neque transit,
Qui tibi pro vili dat coelica regna cubili,
Pro lacrimis risum pro lamentis Paradisum.
Conjugio quod habes nescit succedere labes,
Si complere velis, quod debet sponsa fidelis.
Illius ergo tori cujus conferre nitori
Nec potes astra poli, corrumpere foedera noli,                  30
Nil meditata doli, sed sponso cognita soli.
Cum sit tam dignus fidei, serva sibi pignus,
Nec credas hosti, cujus temptamina nosti,
Qui nunquam cessat quin vos ad vana lacessat.
Quo major virtus, raptor magis aestuat hirtus
Tendere virtuti laqueos, et fraudibus uti.
Plus in eum saevit qui linquens infima sprevit,
Et summis haesit, cui se constantia desit
Pulsus ab hoste cadit, dum per loca lubrica vadit.
Praedo nocens ille cujus sunt spicula mille.                           40
. . . . .
O inimico tu . . .
Ut rigidus postis ne te feret . . .
Neu flectas cursum, sed semper respice rursum,
Et pete certa Deum victo det ut hoste trophaeum.
Neu male te ducas, species inhiando caducas.
Cum temere sentis motum procedere mentis,
Hac ope quam scripsi tibi fac vim protinus ipsi.
Errat mens et hebet, non cognoscens quia debet
Carnea pura premi pro Regis amore supremi.                     50
Ergo feras aeque moles de taedia quaeque,
O si nupsisses, quanto graviora tulisses.
Virgo maritatas an censes esse beatas?
Nulla sciens ritum vellet duxisse maritum.
Nunc de matronis, cujus sint conditionis,
Audi quaeso parum, cum vitam noscitis harum,
Quod sint felices haud unquam postea dices.
Ferrea jura subit mulier quo tempore nubit;
Non vacat a poena quia lex premit hanc aliena;
Nec placet illa viro nisi serviat ordine miro.                           60
Ad celebrem . . . contracta nupta maritum;
Cumque viro praebet totum quam femina debet,
Ni res ex toto domini sit congrua voto,
Qualibet ancilla gravius torquebitur illa.
Sit speciosa?  cito fiet suspecta marito,
Ex tenui causa, nil prorsus criminia ausa,
Tanquam convicta sceleris feret aspera dicta,
Nec solum verbo, sed verbere saevit acerbo.
Conjugis in poenas laxando maritus habenas,
Quod si paxillum tangit, vel respicit illum,                              70
Cujus forma nitet, longo post tempore vitet
Conjugis occursum saevi, quasi quaelibet ursum.
Si pannos aptet, si congrua tegmina captet,
Sive comas spectat, conjunx ubi talia spectat,
Suspicione gravi titubat mens credula pravi.
Res ab ea gestas omnes fert ipse molestas.
Ipsa die festo vultu latet anxia moesto,
Quam sponsus claudit concludens concio plaudit,
Tota domus gaudet, nil profert illa nec audet.
Quidnam proferret quam lex tam ferrea terret?                                80
et gemit et plorat crebrisque doloribus orat;
Ut vel inita possit requiescere vita,
. . . te fortis . . . ssi numina tangit
. . . ti moeroris mors,
. . . pulcrum corpus pro dote sepulcrum;
Aut vultum rugis sulcat turbatio jugis,
Et certum florem perdit roseumque decorem.
. . . decor ille perit, mox vir nova pignora quaerit;
Non ausus coram furtim colit ipse decoram.
Suscipit occultum nebulonis adultera cultum;                      90
Quam praefert flori, nec quem fovet ipse furori,
Foedera laesa tori, sed conjugis imputat ori
Quod modo turpe quidem fuit admirabile pridem.
Sed quasi bruma rosam deformavit speciosam,
Carnem dura manus, gravis ira, furorque profanus,
Verberibus ruptam sic longo tempore nuptam,
Ni pudor hoc tardet, modo tandem durius ardet.
Nec jam fert aeque, nisi langueat haec, misereque
Sermo vel aspectus turbat graviter sibi pectus.
Estque maritalis pietas in conjuge talis,                                  100
Ut fomenta neget, procul hanc et ab aede releget,
Aut latus ense fodit, quam tangere vitat et odit.
Gaudet et hoc raro quam confert lectus avaro,
Qui dum succensus massam distendere census,
Affectu summo nummum studet addere nummo.
Ardet pro quaestu, flagrante Cupidinis aestu,
Non satis indulgens ventri, non tegmine fulgens,
Femina quam gestit, non illam tegmine vestit.
Nec illi vescam praebet parcissimus escam
Vir qui sic ardet, si femina reddere tardet                             110
Quod superest mensae, stricta ferus advolat ense,
Et pro buccella vili movet aspera bella,
Nuptam constringens, numquid sit dedecus ingens,
Pro tenui mica dum sic urgetur amica?
Ad species laetas et ludos qua trahit aetas
Si luditis plaudit, mox vocem conjugis audit:
“Uxor inepta, rudis, cur, spernens seria, ludis?
“Hoc patet in ludo quae sit tua sollicitudo;
“Hic jocus ostendit tua quo sententia tendit.
“Sit tibi cura laris; levitas absit jocularis.                                  120
“Congestam serva, diffusam rem coacerva.”
Urget ut ancillam, locuples nec sustinet illam
Vel vultu laeto vel vivere corde quieto.
. . . deplorat vel . .. orat,
Quod hac aut vita graviori quaeque marita.
Res est digna parum quam mens levis expetit harum,
Copula blanda tori vehementer habenda pudori,
Quae dulcis cordi tamen est obnoxia cordi,
Quod plus jocundum minus hoc fert copula mundum.
Res est virtuti contraria talibus uti,                                           130
Foetoremne luti mens optet honesta soluti?
In coitu nuptas mulcet brevis illa voluptas,
Inde dolor partus quassos ita dissipat artus,
Optet ut illa mori tanto subjecta dolori,
Huicque voluptati satagit violentia fati.
Obviat et morti genitrix modo pignoris orti;
Vivens post partum, grave fert onus, ac iter arctum,
Molem mansuram, tristemque parit sibi curam,
Ancipitemque metum pariendo puerpera foetum.
Cura fovendorum gravis urget eam puerorum,                  140
Vexaturque satis sugentibus ubera natis;
Vix laxat pelles mammarum, tangere velles
Turpes, obscoenas, et lactis flumine plenas.
Abluat ut pannos, labor ut sibi crescat in annos,
Ut pueros purget, recitarem, sed pudor urget.
Forsan mendicas hoc pacto vivere, dicas;
Tantum non illas quae tractant oppida, villas.
Copia quam ditat fortassis talia ditat,
Sed quoddam pejus vitam contaminat ejus.
Omni laude caret, Veneri nisi subdita paret;                        150
Et nisi concives admittat femina dives.
Si caste vivat, celebri se nomine privat;
Dicitur esse rudis, et moribus aspera crudis,
Paupere digna viro, careat quia crimine diro.
Haec est communis foedi sententia clunis,
Ut nihil illa sciat, nisi turpis adultera fiat.
Quam rabies torret, quae nil quod diligat horret,
Decipiturque cito, sic fit Jove digna marito.
Purpura quas vestit, Venus has magis urere gestit;
Quae nupsit tauro, gemmis radiabat et auro.                      160
Quid tua nupta, Nero ? Sed cur mala pristina quaero ?
Hoc plures aevo maculantur crimine saevo;
Hae magis elati quae florent culmine fati.
Ergo fide rupta scelus est in divite nupta,
In paupertina labor et dolor atque ruina.
. . . dulcem natum rapiat, si fiebile fatum,
. . . iti fato luctu perit immoderato
. . . flens tolli quem nutriit ubere nolli,
Si gravis huic haeret labor aut dolor, hoc quoque moeret,
Pignore non salvo, quod ab ejus prodiit alvo.                      170
Vivunt matronae tali sub conditione.
Sed nihil est quod ago, toleret quod acerba virago,
Ut credo ferri non posset voce referri,
Quae fugienda puto quaerenti vivere tuto.
Mole carens tanta laeto modulamine canta,
Desuper esse datum libertatis tibi fatum.
Et spe venturi gaudens et libera duri,
Ponderis ac tanti quod fit grave vel meditanti.
Fessa labore chori solatia sume labori,
Nuptas majori subjectas esse rigori,                                        180
Et plus ferre mali subjectas carcere tali,
Cujus claustra pati species est aspera fati.
Tot conferre malis qui vitam vult monialis,
Si recte penset, claustrale jugum leve censet,
Quin bene possit ali, non aufert lex moniali,
Quod certis horis reficit dulcedo soporis,
Quaeque famem victu frigusque repiellit amictu.
Cum nil lucretur, cum de neutro meditetur,
Cumque nihil fundat sudoris, utroque redundat,
Sic Deus hanc ditat, si velle nocentia vitat,                            190
Illius ex toto respondent singula voto.
Ad metas usque secta cursus utriusque,
Haec manet, illa perit, fugit illa quod altera quaerit.
Haec subit infernas nunquam reditura cavernas,
Flammas, foetores, tenebras, tormenta, dolores;
Quod grave, quod saevum fert, et feret omne per aevum.
Illa recepta choro super omnia nata decoro,
Floridior palma cum gente morabitur alma.
Haec semper volvas, ne normae vincula solvas,
Quas pro fortuna Priami tolerare vel una                               200
Non velles hora, flammas vitare labora,
Quas sine fine pati genus est miserabile fati,
Et pedis non segni discens procedere regni,
Praemia certa petas, cujus non decidit aetas.
Cum bene discernes aeterna, fluentia spernes;
Coelica si penses, nihil esse cadentia censes;
Quod semper durat, si quis componere curat,
Ut te de . . . . .
Sic est ista minor, modus absit ut . . . .
Ad breve momentum confer modo secula centum,         210
Quanto momentum minus est quam secula centum.
Illud nosse datur cum caute res numeratur.
Sed cohibere ne quis istud rationibus aequis,
Nec volvens tantum quod possis dicere quantum,
Hac aetate brevi spatium sit longius aevi.
Elige quod durat, nil te quod praeterit urat;
Spes tua non sit in his quae tendit solvere finis.
Nil cognatorum te tangat cura tuorum;
Non soror, aut frater, sed nec genitor neque mater.
Nullus amat vere, nullius amore movere.                              220
Mater amans natum, flet nati flebile fatum;
Nec tamen hunc tangit quem tristis et anxia plangit.
Proh dolor! horrori sunt ora simillima flori;
Blanda prius risu dulci . . . horrida visu.
Quod fuit ante rosa, nunc moles est onerosa;
Vilis, et ima petens, gravis omnibus, horrida, foetens.
Ferrea lex mortis sic omnibus imperat ortis,
Ut quae viva nitent, ea cuncti mortua vitent,
Nec tangenda putent, sed ut execranda refutent.
Si quaerens perstes, genitoris solet esse superstes,        230
Tempora longa pati vitas post funera nati,
Et nati multo sine luctu patre sepulto.
Inter se certant ut opes sua sub juga vertant,
Et sic certantum crescit discordia tantum,
Ut sese sternant, caecique cupidine spernant.
Parvae mercedis fraternae crimina caedis,
0 facinus summum, fratri praeponere nummum !
Sic frater fratri, sic servit filia matri,
Cui largo plenas sensu dant fata crumenas,
Tot fidos vernas post illum currere cernas.                           240
Si vacuans cellas moveat fortuna procellas,
Ac retrahat munus, remanet de . . . nec unus.
Ex hoc scire datur, quia tantum census amatur,
Nullus amatur egens, quae mundi natio, quae gens,
Non habet hos mores, aut multo deteriores.
Sic amat omnis homo; scis tu cur talia promo ?
Ad sordes mundi ne sit tibi mens redeundi.
Dum tali pacto de mundi turbine tracto,
Scribo quidem verum, sed pars millesima rerum.
. . .                                                                                                          250
. . . pando, sed tu bene cuncta notando.
. . . is plura dictis advertere cura.
Ne sit opus quod ago, non dictae partis imago.
Dum plus de mundo meditabere corde profundo.
Haec res mundanas magis esse fatebere vanas,
Nec poterunt vera cor purum vana movere.
Tunc apparebit, mens tua sorde carebit,
Cum patriae gentes neglexeris atque parentes,
Cura vel parva si dulcia respicis arva,
Natales terras ubi prorsus respuis erras.                                260
Si bene rem spectes non huc iter amodo flectes.
Hic factura moras, illas cole quas colit horas,
Finibus his uti non est tibi virgo saluti.
Opportuna dares hosti loca si remeares.
Saepius audires quam subtraheret tibi vires,
Vanus et aspectus labefactaret tibi pectus.
Tot Sathanse ventis titubarent abdita mentis,
Commoda claustricolis quae si dimittere nolis,
Si reditum vitas, largo tibi robore ditas,
Et quia te sentis ope semper egere regentis.                      270
Vincet enim nemo nisi rege favente supremo.
Ejus tutela fidens tua dirige tela,
Non aliter franges doctas ad bella phalanges,
Colla quibus frangas, et vitae premia tangas.
Quaesumus orate pro nostra debilitate,
Proderit hoc nobis, oberit nec ut aestimo vobis.
 

Historical context:

Serlo writes to Muriel, apparently in answer to her request, urging her to stay in the cloister with disturbing descriptions of the life of a married woman, mistreated by her husband, suffering in childbirth.  He makes little of his own poetic talents, expecting them to be ridiculed by "your Maro," "Maro vester," identified as Baudri of Bourgueil by Elisabeth Van Houts in a conference paper in Tabularia, 2016, "Serlo of Bayeux and England," paragraph 12.  The language of the poem is dense, the meaning of some passages obscure.

Printed source:

The Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets and Epigrammatists of the Twelfth Century, ed. Thomas Wright (London:Longman, 1872), v.2,  233-40 .

Date: