Poems by Richard Finneran

A Poor Translation of Catullus LXXII, Made So by the Inadequacies of the English Language and Meter

Once you said that only me you knew,
     that even God was still less dear to you.
Then I saw you not with lover's eyes,
     but as a father sees his children's wives.
Now I know you.  Passion more intense,
     I find you seeming less worth the expense.
"How?" Now knowing you, I must confess,
     while I love you more, I respect you less.

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All poems copyright © Richard Finneran 2010.