Laudator Temporis Acti

Martial 8.69:

Miraris veteres, Vacerra, solos
nec laudas nisi mortuos poetas.
Ignoscas petimus, Vacerra: tanti
non est, ut placeam tibi, perire.

Tr. Walter C.A. Ker:

You admire, Vacerra, the ancients alone, and praise none but dead poets. Your pardon, pray, Vacerra. It is not worth my while, merely to please you, to die.

Tr. William Hay:

The ancients all your veneration have:
You like no poet on this side the grave.
Yet, pray excuse me; if to please you, I
Can hardly think it worth my while to die.

Tr. Goldwin Smith:

Vacerra lauds no living poet's lays,
But for departed genius keeps his praise.
I, alas, live, nor deem it worth my while
To die, that I may win Vacerra's smile.

Tr. J. Wight Duff:

You like no bards, Vacerra, but the old:
Only dead poets you think poets true!
Pardon, Vacerra—may I make so bold?—
It's not worth dying to be liked by you.

Tr. William Matthews:

There are poets you praise,
But I notice they're all dead.
I'd rather find another way
to please you, friend, instead.

Tr. James Michie:

Rigidly classical, you save
Your praise for poets in the grave.
Forgive me, it's not worth my while
Dying to earn your critical smile.

Lessing imitated Martial in this little epigram:

Du lobest Todte nur? Vax, deines Lobes wegen
Hab' ich blutwenig Lust, mich bald in's Grab zu legen.

That is,

You praise only the dead? Vax, even to win your praise,
I have very little desire to lie down in my grave anytime soon.