Social Commentaries
Book X, Epigram 72 (Ker)
Translated by Walter C. A. Ker (1919–20) · From Epigrams (Loeb, 1919–20)
In vain, O ye Flatteries, ye come to me, wretched creatures with your shameless lips; I think not to address any man as Master and God. No longer in this city is there place for you; fly far off to the turbaned Parthians, and kiss — base, crawling and suppliant as ye are — the soles of bedizened kings. No master is here, but a commander, aye, a senator most just of all, by whose means rustic Truth with her unperfumed locks has been brought home from her abode by Styx. Under such a prince, if thou art wise, beware, O Rome, to speak the words thou didst before.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Martial. “Book X, Epigram 72 (Ker).” Translated by Walter C. A. Ker. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/martial/1234/.
Chicago
Martial. “Book X, Epigram 72 (Ker).” Translated by Walter C. A. Ker. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/martial/1234/.
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