XC TO THE WAX DOLL
Mitchell S. (Mitchell Starrett) Buck translation
DOLL of wax, dear plaything which she called her child, she has wearied of thee also and she has forgotten thee like myself, who, with her, was thy father or thy mother, I know not which.
The pressure of her lips has discolored thy little cheeks; and on thy left hand see the broken finger which made her weep so much. This little cyclas which thou wearest, it was she who broidered it for thee.
She said thou couldst already read. Nevertheless thou wert not weaned, and in the evening, bending over thee, she opened her tunic and gave thee the breast, “so that thou wouldst not cry,” she said.
Doll, if I wished to see her again, I would give thee to Aphrodite, as the dearest of my gifts. But I would rather think that she is wholly dead.