No one who runs into is happy.
Wherever you go, people run away, and you’re
left all alone, Ligurinus.  Do you want to know
what the reason is?  You’re too much of a poet.
This is a very dangerous fault.
A mother tiger roused by the theft of her cubs,
a viper scorched by the tropical sun,
an evil scorpion—they are all feared less than you are.
I ask you, who would endure such treatment as I receive from you?
You read your poetry to me when I’m standing,
you read it to me when I’m seated;
you read it to me when I’m in a hurry,
and you read to me when I’m taking a shit.
When I’m taking a hot bath, you’re reading to me
and when I go for a swim, you’re still reading to me.
When I’m on my way to dinner, you read your poetry to me;
when I am eating dinner, you’re reading to me then too.
Exhausted, I go to bed; you wake me up with your reading.
Do you understand how annoying you are?
Although you’re a just, good, and harmless man,
everyone is afraid of you!