Amores I iv

Whatever great works they go on to create or are eventually best known for, it is often the early work that is in some ways essentially the real artist. Their first ideas being what they first wanted to express and their original style being how they thought it best put. Fame and recognition inevitably change them and so it is the early pieces in which we find them unspoiled. Ovid is probably best known for the Metamorphoses but I'm sure I prefer the Amores.
Also, as might be suspected of Donne, the poets that write about love and their amorous adventures might be those who spent more time thinking about it than doing it. While both fancy themselves as 'ladies' men', one could think that a real philanderer might have spent so much time gallivanting that they would hardly stop to write so much of it down for posterity. I don't know. But I was taken by this little episode re-reading Ovid this weekend and thought it might be strong enough to stand even my hack re-working,

Amores I iv

I’ll see you there. And, with you, your husband
Who can put his arm around you and rest
Your head upon him while across the room
We share secret glances that will murmur
Between us our furtive wordless nothings.
Read my meaning from my moving fingers
Or from the idle shapes I trace in wine.
And when you bring to mind a thought of love
Between us you should brush your glowing cheek
But if you need to chide me then perhaps
You’ll touch your earlobe so that I will know.
Don’t take the wine he offers you but say
That he should drink it and then ask the slave
To bring you some that you say you prefer.
I will drink from that glass so that my lips
Will have touched the part that you will drink from.
Don’t let him get too intimate with you,
And, above all, please don’t let him kiss you
Or I will announce that we are lovers
And the kisses that he’s stealing are mine.
But it’s the unseen lovemaking I fear
More than any because I cannot know
Of it but know of it for myself
On my own account when I have enjoyed
It with you in other public places
But discreetly, hidden under clothing.
Remember to keep his glass charged, keep him
Drinking strong wine with no added water
The sooner we can have him taken home
To sleep it off and, when it’s time to go,
Leave like the others do and blend yourself
In with the crowd, for I will be a part
Of it and meet you there. I’ll see you then.

How wretched I am to ask for only
These few short hours with you, when all night long
You will be back at home with him while I,
Desperate and tearful, watch you to your door.
And your husband will then take your kisses
As a right and take for himself the love
You give me more naturally. Might I ask
You let him do so without your response.
Don’t let him enjoy it or, at the least,
Don’t take any pleasure in it yourself.
But whatever happens during the night,
Tell me what I want to hear tomorrow.