Another go...

mē pŏsitō pŭdĕat dēsuescĕrĕ pangĕre plectrō
     carmĭnă, frūstrāta est Mūsa rĕlictă sĭtū
at rĕvŏcārĕ dĭū lătĭtantēs pectŏre causās
     jam lĭbĕat: nam nōn pungĭt ămārus Ămor.
Orsus enim cecinī tener usque ā tē, Annă Marīă,
     docta pŏēta mea scrīpta relīqueram amans.
A, thĕsis est ŏcŭlīs victa et cēssēre capillīs
     Nostra tuīs studia; et vōce loquente tuā;
Quae mala passus erās, eadem sum, magne Catulle,
       Vix poteram tactus stare labante genu.

De Coetibus Doctissimorum Hominum

Concĭlĭum doctī, reverenda Scientia, adībunt
ut tē commendent; per sŭă scrīptă, mihi;
Scrībent, ut semper, tantă volūmĭnă totque
Juppiter! – et placeat cuique Minerva sua;

They'll come, revered Science, to the convention, learned throngs
to commend you to me, through their writings;
They'll write, as they always do, such great tomes, and so many
--Good god!  Let each be proud of their clever skill;

mē pŏsitō pŭdĕat dēsuescĕrĕ pangĕre plectrō

mē pŏsitō pŭdĕat dēsuescĕrĕ pangĕre plectrō

     carmĭnă, frūstrāta est Mūsa relictă sĭtū

ast rĕvŏcārĕ dĭū lătĭtantēs pectŏre causās

     jam libeat: nam nōn pungit ămārus Ămor.

Let me feel shame at growing unaccustomed to writing songs, 

my guitar pick put aside; 

the Muse frustrated, left behind in the dust.

Ah, but let it please me to recall the causes, 

long hidden in my heart,

For now bitter love doesn't prick.

Another Beginning

Jam dēsuēsse lĭbet claudae sŭă pangĕrĕ Mūsae

carmĭnă, nōn dĭgĭtīs iam nŭmĕrārĕ sŭīs

quot oscillantēs alternantēs căpĭant tŭă lūmĭnă pēdēs

an căpĭant crīnēs, Annă Mărīă, tuōs.