Therefore ye Furies who with vengeful ire
Visit men’s deeds, whose brows with serpents crowned
Show the heart’s blast of wrath, haste hither, haste,
And listen to the words of my complaint
Forced from the depths of my unhappy heart,
O! helpless, burning, blinded, frenzied me!
But since it is God’s truth my heart reveals,
Suffer not yet my woe to come to nought,
But ev’n as Theseus left me desolate,
Such desolation whelm his life, his home.

[Quare, facta virum multantes vindice poena
Eumenides, quibus anguino redimita capillo
frons exspirantis praeportat pectoris iras,
huc huc adventate, meas audite querelas,
quas ego, vae miserae, extremis proferre medullis
cogor inops, ardens, amenti caeca furore.
Quae quoniam verae nascuntur pectore ab imo,
vos nolite pati nostrum vanescere luctum,
sed quali solam Theseus me mente reliquit,
tali mente, deae, funestet seque suosque.]

Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]

Carmina # 64 “The Nuptuals of Peleus and Thetis,” ll. 193-202 [tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
    (Source)

Ariadne's curse on Theseus, who abandoned her on a desert island after she eloped with him.

(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:

And you, Eumenides, with snaky hair,
Who for men's crimes due chastisements prepare;
Whose inward rage sits pictur'd on your brows;
O, hither come, and listen to my woes!
Woes pour'd in torture from my inmost soul,
Where burning phrenzy, and wild tumult roll!
Rack'd is this breast with no fictitious pain;
Then hear my pray'r, just maids, nor hear in vain!
And grant that Theseus, and his race may share
Such fate accurst, as now I'm doom'd to bear!
[tr. Nott (1795)]

Ye, who avenge their crimes on all mankind,
Furies, whose hair with angry snakes entwined
Paint on the threatening brow the hell-born breast,
Haste, hither haste, and hear my fell request.
'Tis helpless frenzy, senseless, blind despair;
Teach me, 'tis all that's left, my frantic prayer;
Rend from my secret heart each cold restraint,
And pour forth all my soul in my complaint.
Since then it warmly flows from heartfelt pain,
Let me not speak my rage, my grief in vain;
But grant, that still the reckless, ruthless mind
Which made him fly, and leave a wretch behind,
May guide, may urge his life with headlong pace,
Till Theseus curse alike himself and all his race
[tr. Lamb (1821)]

Come ye that wreak on man his guilt with retribution dire,
Ye maids, whose snake-wreathed brows bespeak your bosoms' vengeful ire!
Come ye , and hearken to the curse which I, of sense forlorn,
Hurl from the ruins of a heart with mighty anguish torn!
Though there be fury in my words, and madness in my brain,
Let not my cry of woe and wrong assail your ears in vain!
Urge the false heart that left me here still on with head long chase
From ill to worse, till Theseus curse himself and all his race!
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]

Ye powers ! who to the crimes of men dire chastisement assign;
Eumenides! around whose heads the snaky ringlets twine;
Whose brows portray the hellish wrath that rankles in your breast;
Oh! hither, hither haste, and list to this the sad request
Which from my inmost soul, alas! to misery consigned,
I'm forced to pour -- a helpless wretch, with burning madness blind;
And since even from my bosom's depths these bursts of anguish stream,
Oh, doom them not to vanish like an airy, idle dream,
But let him in that soul, in which he has abandon'd me,
Bring on himself and all his race death and black infamy.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]

Then, O sworn to requite man's evil wrathfully, Powers
Gracious, on whose grim brows, with viper tresses inorbed,
Looks red-breathing forth your bosom's feverous anger;
Now, yea now come surely, to these loud miseries harken,
All I cry, the afflicted, of inmost marrow arising,
Desolate, hot with pain, with blinding fury bewilder'd.
Yet, for of heart they spring, grief's children truly begotten,
Verily, Gods, these moans you will not idly to perish.
But with counsel of evil as he forsook me deceiving,
Death to his house, to his heart, bring also counsel of evil.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]

Therefore, O you who 'venge man's deed with penalties direful,
Eumenides! aye wont to bind with viperous hairlocks
Foreheads, -- Oh, deign outspeak fierce wrath from bosom outbreathing,
Hither, Oh hither, speed, and lend you all ear to my grievance,
Which now sad I (alas!) outpour from innermost vitals
Maugre my will, sans help, blind, fired with furious madness.
And, as indeed all spring from veriest core of my bosom,
Suffer you not the cause of grief and woe to evanish;
But with the Will wherewith could Theseus leave me in loneness,
Goddesses! bid that Will lead him, lead his, to destruction.
[tr. Burton (1893)]

Wherefore you requiters of men's deeds with avenging pains, O Eumenides, whose front enwreathed with serpent-locks blazons the wrath exhaled from your bosom, come here, here, listen to my complaint, which I, sad wretch, am urged to outpour from my innermost marrow, helpless, burning, and blind with frenzied fury. And since in truth they spring from the very depths of my heart, be unwilling to allow my agony to pass unheeded, but with such mind as Theseus forsook me, with like mind, O goddesses, may he bring evil on himself and on his kin.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]

Therefore , O ye that visit the deeds of men with vengeful pains, ye Eumenides, whose foreheads bound with snaky hair bear on their front the wrath which breathes from your breast, hither, hither haste, hear my complaints which I ( ah , unhappy!) utter from my inmost heart perforce, helpless, burning, blinded with raging frenzy. For since my woes come truthfully from the depths of my heart, suffer not ye my grief to come to nothing but even as Theseus left me desolate, so, goddesses, may he bring ruin on himself and his own!
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]

Wherefore, ye Furies, ye who on men's sin
Due punishment inflict, whose very hair
In viper's form reveals the rage within,
Hither in judgment come and hear my prayer;
The only outlet for my helpless wrath,
As blind with rage I burn and pour it forth.
And as I launch my curses from my soul,
I charge you guard them till they reach their goal;
God grant the shallow heart that left me here
Bring death on those that Theseus holds most dear.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]

Ye, then, who vindicate their deeds of shame
On guilty men; whose vengeance-breathing breast
Speaks in the snaky hair, the withering flame:
Come, Furies, come! Give ear to the request
An injured woman makes, with maddening woe oppressed.
Since forced by sad misfortune I complain;
Since deep and true the sorrows that I bear;
Ah, let not my petition be in vain!
Let the vile author of my misery share
As sad a fate, as gloomy a despair,
As brought his cruel deed on wretched me!
[tr. Wright (1926)]

Hear me gods whose antiquity flows backward beyond the time of man, whose vengeance falls on all, O wake again
with snakes circling your foreheads and now releasing rivers of blood pouring from sightless eyes,
make these the signals of the anger (red coals in your breasts) that brings you out of the forgotten
womb of time. Hear what I say, look at my heart, wrapped round with flames, my soul in madness, O remember
these last words spoken from my heart, O gods! And as Theseus has now forgotten me, make him a stranger
to his own soul, so that the architecture of his mind falls to ruin.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]

O Furies, charged with vengeance that punishes evil,
you whose bleak foreheads are girded with writhing serpents
which clearly display the outrage yo7ur cold hearts keep hidden,
come here to me quickly, listen to my lamentation,
which I deliver in pain from the depths of my passion,
unwilling forced to, afire, blinded with madness!
-- Since what I say is the truth, since I say it sincerely,
do not allow my lament to fade with out issue:
but just as Theseus carelessly left me to die here,
may that same carelessness ruin him and his dearest!
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]

Therefore, you that punish with avenging price men's crimes,
Furies, Eumenides, whose brows, bound with serpents for tresses,
announce the rages of your panting chests,
Be here! Be here! Respond to my complaints
which I -- pitiful I -- am forced to bring out from my very bones,
helpless, burning, blind with mindless rage.
Since those are true-born from my deepest heart,
do not allow my suffering to gutter out.
Goddesses, may the same intent that left me behind, alone,
defile Theseus himself and his own with death.
[tr. Banks (1997)]

So you Eumenides who punish by avenging
the crimes of men, your foreheads crowned
with snaky hair, bearing anger in your breath,
here, here, come to me, listen to my complaints,
that I, wretched alas, force, weakened, burning,
out of the marrow of my bones, blind with mad rage.
Since these truths are born in the depths of my breast,
you won’t allow my lament to pass you by,
but as Theseus left me alone, through his intent,
goddesses, by that will, pursue him and his with murder.
[tr. Kline (2001)]

So, you whose vengeful exactions answer men's crimes, you Furies whose snake-wreathed brows announce the wrath gusting up from your secret hearts, I summon you here to me now: give ear to the complaints which I in my misery am forced to dredge up from the inmost core of my being -- helpless, burning, blinded by mindless frenzy. But since they're the true products of my private heart, don't let my grief all go for nothing; rather in just such a mood as Theseus abandoned me to my lonely fate, let him, goddesses, now doom both himnself and his!
[tr. Green (2005)]

Wherefore, Eumenides, punishing the deeds of men with avenging penalty,
to whom the forehead having been encircled with snaky hair
carries forth angers breathing out of the chest,
here come here, hear my complaints,
which I , alas wretched, have been compelled to bring forth
from the bottom marrows helpless, burning, blind with crazy fury.
Since such things are being born from the deepest chest,
you don't suffer our grief to wane,
but with what type of mind Theseus left me alone,
let him pollute both himself and his own with death, goddesses
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]