Carmen de nocte Cantabrigii deacta
Last Night in Cambridge (to be continued)

iam celebres laeta calles sunt pube; calorem
aura coruscantem, nocte cadente, fugat.
gaudent convivis plenae quatiente tabernae
pulsu; desistit musica nec calices
vitae propini longaeque bonaeque; lucernae
sparsae intermissis luce micant tenebris.


Now the streets are thronging with life; the breeze
makes glittering summer's heat flee, as night falls.
The clubs, packed with party-goers, rejoice
as they shake with the beat, and the music doesn't,
nor do the cups, drunk in toasts to life good and long
stop; the scattered disco-lights' bright gleam
alternates with brief darkness.

In puellam immoderatis dictis usam

non bene dicenti moderari disce, puella,
linguae; iam nugas fundere mitte tuas;

(1)
istas, prome iterum, sere quas vis, stulta, loquelas,
atque vide propere quam fugiant alii.

(2)
istas prome tuas; age, dic quascumque loquelas
optas, atque vide quam propere fugiant
auditores...



Learn how to restrain your tongue, girl,
that doesn't speak well of others;
Leave off pouring out your trifling nonsense.

(1)
Go on, fetch them out, sow whatever chatter you like,
and watch how quickly people run in the other direction.

(2)
fetch out that talk of yours, go on say whatever you want,
and watch how quickly your listeners run
in the other direction...