"You Shun Me"

(Horace, Odes 1.23)

translated by Peter Saint-Andre

You shun me like a fawn that's seeking
through trackless hills her mother peeking,
      ill with fear of the woods and breeze;

When pliant leaves the spring winds rustle
or lizards through the bushes bustle
      she trembles in her heart and knees.

But not I like the tiger savage
or wild lion seek to ravage:
      so come, you're ripe a man to please.

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