Erotica Romana

<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"></SPAN></p> <h2> XXIV </h2> <p>I in the back of the garden, the last of the gods, in a corner,<br/> <br/> Ineptly formed, must I stand. Evil the inroads of time.<br/> <br/> Cucumber vines grow entwining about this primeval lingam,<br/> <br/> Cracking it almost in two under the weight of the fruit.<br/> <br/> Faggots are heaped all about me against the cold of the winter,<br/> <br/> Which I so hate for the crows settling then down on my head,<br/> <br/> Which they befoul very shamefully. Summer's no better: the servants<br/> <br/> Empty their bowels and show insolent, naked behinds.<br/> <br/> Filth, above and below! I was clearly in danger of turning<br/> <br/> Into filth myself, toadstool, rotten wood!<br/> <br/> Now, by your efforts, O noblest of artists, I shall recover<br/> <br/> With fellow gods my just place. And it's no more than my due.<br/> <br/> Jupiter's throne, so dishonestly won, it was I who secured it:<br/> <br/> Color and ivory, marble and bronze, not to mention the poems.<br/> <br/> Now, all intelligent men look upon me in kindness. They like to<br/> <br/> Form their own image of me, just as the poet has done.<br/> <br/> Nor do the girls take offense when they see me&mdash;by no means the matrons.<br/> <br/> None finds me ugly today, though I am monstrously strong.<br/> <br/> Half a foot long, as reward, your glorious rod (dear poet)<br/> <br/> Proudly shall strut from your loins, when but your dearest commands,<br/> <br/> Nor shall your member grow weary until you've enjoyed the full dozen<br/> <br/> Artful positions the great poet Philainis describes.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />