After Horace: I.23

To Chloe

Vitas inuleo me similis, Chloe…

Just like a fawn
Seeking her shy mother
Over pathless mountain passes
Full of empty fears of trees and breezes,
You shy from me, Chloe.
If the arrival of spring
Shakes the shivering leaves
Or a green lizard
Scatters a bramble bush,
Her heart and knees tremble!
But, Chloe, I am not
A rough tiger
Or a Gaetulian lion seeking you
To crush you: Come on,
Stop lolling after your mother
You’re ripe enough for a man!

 

Annabella Pomi