tulisti ad me totus illas venustas avis peregrinas.
sum singillatim admiratus illarum plumas,
atque mente agitavi in ubi hortulus in nostro vivunt.
quaedam quasi parvus pavo, ac alius passer non absimilis
quem ornat cum divinissimus coloribus et caelis.
quam exoptavi illa sim avis, in carcerem involvatur
de mollisimus fit cute, atque sanguine tenerrimus.
cur me non includeres ut nostrum feceras voluptatem?
te relinqui cum vegrandes creaturae ac abivi apud flores,
pari tui donis quidpiam sperans capere.
nimin aves altae omnes insidebant arboribus,
sed hic illic in auram papiliones tripudibant.
cum manibus asperis in fruticeto captare sum conatus;
circa complectens mea manus, precans ad musa.
primo papilio evolavit ex inter mea palmis;
secundus, vidi manus patefaciens, est elisus.
You brought me all of these delightful exotic birds.
One by one I marvelled at their plumage
and I wondered where in our little garden they live.
One was like a tiny peacock, and another a sparrow
adorned with the most unearthly colours and hues.
They chirped about in our hands, and now and then
one would try to fly from the gentle bars that caged them.
How I longed to be that bird, wrapped up in that prison
made of the softest skin and warmest blood.
Why could you not jail me as you had our pleasure?
I left you with the little creatures and went among the flowers,
hoping to catch something equal to your gifts.
The birds were all sat far too high up in the trees,
but there were butterflies all dancing about the air.
With my rough hands I tried to corner one in the shrubbery;
clasping my hands around it, praying to the muse.
The first butterfly escaped from between my palms;
the second, I saw as I opened my hands, was crushed.