Andreak
Agathas
Berrogeita lau maitale zituen Agathas-ek antzinako egunetan,
Denak, baina, arbuiatu zituen;
Orain nigana da bihurtu amodio xerka:
Haren ilea ere beste kolore bateko ari da bihurtzen.
Andre gaztea
Zure sutondoa mitxoletaz elikatu dut
Eta lau urte osoz gurtu zaitut;
Orain purrustaka ari zara soinekoak ongi ematen ez dizulako
Eta hori esatea otu zaidalako.
Lesbia Illa
Memnon, Memnon, andre hura,
Gure artean ibili ohi zena
Lirain eta zalantza antzean
Orain ezkonduta dago
Britainiar etxejaun batekin
Lugete, veneres! Lugete, Cupidinesque!
Iragaiten
Afrodita bezain orbangabea,
Ezin ederragoa,
Burugabea,
Zure patxuliaren usain arinak
—Arina, zure kokotsaren zimur krudelak bezain—
Erasaten dit baina ez nau berak ere sobera kezkatzen.
Ladies
Agathas
Four and forty lovers had Agathas in the old days, / All of whom she refused; / And now she turns to me seeking love, / And her hair also is turning.
Young Lady
I have fed your lar with poppies, / I have adored you for three full years; / And now you grumble because your dress does not fit / And because I happen to say so.
Lesbia Illa
Memnon, Memnon, that lady / Who used to walk about amongst us / With such gracious uncertainty, / Is now wedded / To a British householder. / Lugete, Venere! Lugete, Cupidinesque!
Passing
Flawless as Aphrodite, / Thoroughly beautiful, / Brainless, / The faint odour of your patchouli, / Faint, almost, as the lines of cruelty about your chin, / Assails me, and concerns me almost as little.