Anna Thornton, 3rd prize (18-and-under)

Amores I.5

aestus erat, mediamque dies exegerat horam;
apposui medio membra levanda toro.
pars adaperta fuit, pars altera clausa fenestrae,
quale fere silvae lumen habere solent,
qualia sublucent fugientecrepuscula Phoebo
aut ubi nox abiit nec tamen orta dies.
illa verecundus lux est praebenda puellis,
qua timidus latebras speret habere pudor.
ecce, Corinna venit tunica velata recincta,
candida dividua colla tegente coma,
qualiter in thalamos formosa Sameramis isse
dicitur et multis Lais amata viris.
deripui tunicam; nec multum rara nocebat,
pugnabat tunica sed tamen illa tegi;
cumque ita pugnaret tamquam quae vincere nollet,
victa est non aegre proditione sua.
ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros,
in toto nusquam corpore menda fuit:
quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos!
forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi!
quam castigato planus sub pectore venter!
quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur!
singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi,
et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum.
cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo.
proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies.

Love Poems I.5

A sultry afternoon: I lay and dozed,
and spread my limbs out, calm, relaxed, at ease.
My window was half-open and half-closed,
and cast the dapple light of woodland trees,
of glowing dusk beneath a dying sun,
or after dark, when day is not yet clear:
a light for timid virgins, fearing fun,
who seek a pretext for their modest fear.
Here comes Corinna, dressed in loose attire;
her lustrous hair her lowered neckline covers:
like Queen Semirramis' regal desire,
or lovely Lais of the many lovers.
I ripped her gown off to expose her skin;
she struggled, but as though she hoped to fail:
half-hearted fighting with no will to win,
and conquered by her willing self-betrayal.
So, nude, my darling stood before my sight,
perfection in her body's faultlessness:
her snowy shoulders and her arms so white;
her breasts, which fit so neatly my caress;
her slender stomach underneath her breast;
her tender flank; her youthful thigh divine…
Why should I lay bare, bit by bit, the rest?
I hugged her naked body into mine…
At last we ceased, relaxed in weary bliss.
May all my days bring pleasure such as this.

Translated from the Latin by Anna Thornton
  [Commentary on the poem by the translator]   

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