Seneca wrote a number of poems in verse combat against Maximus. This one is a companion piece to 412 The Poet Protests, posted here. Please keep in mind that these are not intended as literal translations, more spiritual ones.
Well, Maximus, I hate you, your jealousy: all.
I’d die rather than admit surprise. Shall I tell you why?
Your liverish jokes – full of gall – with evil intent
You aimed at me, my life, my reputation.
Jealousy rules you. You sought to harm me –
it was a trifle – yet your target was a fatal wound.
Your words, the truth you played with, these are the source
of my enmity. My life is on it.
I hate you Maximus, that gives me great joy:
Your jealousy sings of my success!