​If a man can find his happiness in remembrance of his own
goodness, thinking over his own faithfulness
to every contractual promise, with not one violation, ever,
no invocation, in the heat of passion, of the name of a god solely
to deceive a man,
then you’ve set your life ahead up well, Catullus,
thanks to this thankless love.
Because every right thing that could have been said
or done was said and done by you.
All this, undertaken in good faith, was taken as nothing
so why amplify its meaning now
with all this extravagant suffering?
Stand fast, Catullus, be resolute this time
in your retreat
and, with no invocation to any god,
from all this misery, desist.
It is difficult to lay down such an enduring love,
but however you like to do it, difficult as it is,
this is what has to be done.
To recover from this sickness you must
take back control of your own self
if you can, and even if you cannot 
it has to be done. 
Oh, god! If you have any pity in you, or if ever
you have come to the aid of anyone
in mortal extremity, look on me in my misery
and, if I have truly lived by the rules
rescue me from this destruction, this pestilence
that has overcome me.
A lethargy creeps all through my joints,
and repels any feeling of happiness.
I am not looking now for her to single me out
or even, if that is too much to ask,
to refrain from loving everyone else –
I can set this sickness aside
and take responsibility for my own health.
Oh, god, restore it to me!