Already bright morning is opening its windows;
already the watchful swallow is chattering in its nest;
you, as if still in the first or second night watch,
  Parmeno, are asleep.

Dormice sleep through the whole winter,
but they abstain from food: you sleep because 
you drink freely and attack your belly
  with too much food,

so that no sound enters your coiled ears,
and deep sleep oppresses the seat of your mind,
and no flashes of brilliant light 
  assail your eyes.

Once a youth slept the whole year through,
continuously through the cycle of night and day,
stories claim — Luna having prolonged
  his sleep.

Get up, you fool who should be beaten with rods:
get up, lest a long sleep come to you from where
you least fear it: drag yourself away from
  your soft bed, Parmeno.

Could it be that this ditty, set forth 
in Sapphic verse, urges sleep upon you?
Banish the restful measure of Lesbos,
  O vigorous iamb.