A liberal translation of Catullus XXVIII
My white-collared friends, footmen of the City of London, are you still working away for an ungrateful boss, who takes your time and gives you no money? Aren’t you tired of early starts and missing date night? Unpaid internships, heart attacks on the toilet, cocaine orgies that leave you empty on all accounts the next morning.
Put it down to experience, they will tell you!
Well, for my part, I’ve had my face fucked by a relentless prick in a suit. Gagging all over the place – I wasn’t cut out for it. As far as I can tell, that bastard must have got his own throat rammed a few times when he was that age, growing up in West London, where hazing is a professional standard.
Go to university, get a career, they said. Nonsense!
As for you, friends, I hope you get gout; you’re a disgrace to education!