Horoscope

Dixerat astrologus, periturum te cito, Munna, nec, puto, mentitus dixerat ille tibi. Nam tu dum metuis, ne quid post fata relinquas, hausisti patrias luxuriosus opes, bisque tuum deciens non toto tabuit anno: dic mihi, non hoc est, Munna, perire cito? An astrologer said that you would quickly come to an end, Munna, And he did not lie, I think, when he said it to you. For you, in your fear of leaving anything after your death, Have in extravagance exhausted your father’s wealth, And your two millions have melted away in less than a year. Tell me, is not this, Munna, quickly coming to an end? Avea detto un astrologo che presto saresti spacciato, o Munna, e non mi pare che t’avesse mentito. Giacché tu, pe’l timore di nulla lasciar dopo morte, hai ingoiata nel lusso la sostanza paterna, e svanirono i tuoi milioni in meno d’un anno. Di’, Munna, anche così non sei dunque spacciato?

Martial, Epigrams, Book 9, LXXXII
English translation by Walter C. A. Ker
Italian translation by Giuseppe Lipparini

Photo elaboration by Russian fine art photographer Platon Yurich. Photo © Platon Yurich.