“I wept not, I within so turned to stone”

De cathedra quotiens surgis — iam saepe notavi — pedicant miserae, Lesbia, te tunicae. Quas cum conata es dextra, conata sinistra Vellere, cum lacrimis eximis et gemitu: sic constringuntur gemina Symplegade culi et nimias intrant cyaneasque natis. Emendare cupis vitium deforme? docebo: Lesbia, nec surgas censeo, nec sedeas. Yours is a classic dilemma, Lesbia; Whenever you get up from your chair Your clothes treat you most indecently. Tugging and talking, with right hand and left You try to free the yards of cloth swept Up your fundament. Tears and groans Are raised to Heaven as the imperilled Threads are pulled to safety from Those deadly straits: the huge Symplegades Of your buttocks grip all that pass. What should you do to avoid Such terrible embarrassment? Ask Uncle Val — Don’t get up, girl, and don’t sit down!

Martial, Epigrams, Book 11, XCIX
English translation by Peter Porter

Pablo Picasso, Dora Maar au Chat (Dora Maar with Cat), 1941. Credit: Wikipedia.