Tibullus 1.9:1-28

Quid mihi si fueras miseros laesurus amores,
Foedera per divos, clam violanda, dabas?
A miser, et siquis primo periuria celat,
Sera tamen tacitis Poena venit pedibus.
Parcite, caelestes: aequum est inpune licere 5
Numina formosis laedere vestra semel.
Lucra petens habili tauros adiungit aratro
Et durum terrae rusticus urget opus,
Lucra petituras freta per parentia ventis
Ducunt instabiles sidera certa rates: 10
Muneribus meus est captus puer, at deus illa
In cunerem et liquidas munera vertat aquas.
Iam mihi persolvet poenas, pulvisque decorem
Detrahet et ventis horrida facta coma;
Uretur facies, urentur sole capilli, 15
Deteret invalidos et via longa pedes.
Admonui quotiens 'auro ne pollue formam:
Saepe solent auro multa subesse mala.
Divitiis captus siquis violavit amorem,
Asperaque est illi difficilisque Venus. 20
Ure meum potius flamma caput et pete ferro
Corpus et intorto verbere terga seca.
Nec tibi celandi spes sit peccare paranti:
Est deus, occultos qui vetat esse dolos.
Ipse deus tacito permisit lene ministro, 25
Ederet ut multo libera verba mero;
Ipse deus somno domitos emittere vocem
Iussit et invitos facta tegenda loqui.'

If you were to wound my wretched love, why did you give
me your word before the gods, only to break it secretly?
Ah sadly, even if perjury is hidden at first,
punishment will come later, on silent feet.
Spare him, gods: it’s right that beauty should offend
your divinity, once, and go unpunished.
The farmer yokes his bulls to the useful plough
and works the land hard in search of profit:
fixed stars guide the swaying ships, through seas
obedient to the winds, in search of profit.
My lad’s captivated by gifts. But may the god
turn those gifts to ashes or running water.
Soon he’ll make amends: dust will take his beauty
and his hair will be entangled by the winds:
his face will be burned, his tresses burned by the sun,
and the long road will blister his tender feet.
How many times have I warned him: “ Don’t let gold
sully your beauty: many evils often lurk beneath the gold.
Venus is bitter and difficult with anyone
who violates love, captivated by wealth.
Scorch my head with fire instead, attack my body
with steel, and scar my back with the twisted lash.
Don’t hope to conceal it when you’re planning sin:
the god knows, who forbids wrongs to be hidden.
The god himself has often allowed a silent servant
to babble freely due to strong drink.
The god himself has ordered a voice subdued by sleep
to speak and tell unwillingly of things better buried.”