Molly enjoys writing poems while walking. She has led a peripatetic life -- at various times she has lived in each of the New England states plus Florida and Arizona. At 19 she was a junior finalist for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. As a sophomore in college she and three friends developed a brand of "Bircher muesli" cereal that blended the Swiss (Familia) type with American hippie granola. The scheme proved a success. And when she and her friends sold their shares to Kellogg's, she was able to live on the proceeds for five years in Cleveland where she learned Latin and began writing poetry. She went to graduate school at Cornell for one year and translated Catullus. She has worked as a research librarian at two universities. In 2002 she served as associate editor on the "F-U" anthology David Lehman edited for Slope Editions. With Reb Livingston she founded No Tell Motel. She used to blog over at molly arden says so but that was before three children appeared on the scene. She plans to continue her "free translations" of Catullus thinking of them as the kind of mask Yeats liked to put on. She has had a kindergarten crush on Jim Cummins since reading his poem about violins and violence. There are days when looking out the window is enough for her. There's a sculpture of snow in the shape of trees, branches, bushes, boughs, and the floor of the earth is whiter than fresh laundered sheets.
Catullus #25 [translated by Molly Arden]
September 26, 2008
Catullus # 25
Thallus, you faggot: softer than the fur on a rabbit,
or down of pillow, or flap of ear, or phallus
dangling from your old man crotch, festooned with cobwebs,
are you, and still as greedy a thief as a gonif gale [?]
[line missing here]
Give me back the things you stole from me: my coat,
the handkerchief from Spain, my etchings from Bythinia,
things you claim your parents passed down to you.
Get your sticky hands off my stuff, and send them back
or else I swear I’ll take my rod and kick your ass
and leave my marks on your pathetic body
and make you twist like a toy battleship
in the bathtub of the sea when a hurricane hits.
-- translated by Molly Arden