Rise up, lads, the evening is coming. The evening star is just raising his long-awaited light in heaven.
Catullus
I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask why I do so. I do not know, but I feel it, and am in agony.
hate feel agony love
My mind's sunk so low, Claudia, because of you, wrecked itself on your account so bad already, that I couldn't like you if you were the best of women, or stop loving you, no matter what you do.
women loving bad stop matter
I hate and love - wherefore I cannot tell, but by my tortures know the fact too well
hate fact love
Most wretched men are cradled to poetry by wrong: they learn in suffering what they teach in song
poetry men suffering wrong song learn teach
I can imagine no greater misfortune for a cultured people than to see in the hands of the rulers not only the civil, but also the religious power
misfortune people power religion religious imagine hands rulers greater
I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness
youth write sing love
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.
kisses give
What a woman says to her avid lover should be written in wind and running water.
running wind woman water lover written
It is difficult suddenly to put aside a long-standing love; it is difficult, but somehow you must do it.
difficult love
For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.
poet
Now he is treading that dark road to the place from which they say no one has ever returned.
dark road place
light heaven star rise evening
Come boy, and pour for me a cupOf old Falernian. Fill it upWith wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear; Our host decrees no water here. Let dullards drink the Nymph's pale brew, The sluggish thin their blood with dew. For such pale stuff we have no use; For us the purple grape's rich juice. Begone, ye chilling water sprite; Here burning Bacchus rules tonight!
poetry water alcohol wine
Godlike the man whosits at her side, whowatches and catchesthat laughterwhich (softly) tears meto tatters: nothing is left of me, each timeI see her..
women poetry romance
We should live, my Lesbia, and loveAnd value all the talk of stricterOld men at a single penny. Suns can set and rise again; For us, once our brief light has set, There's one unending night for sleeping. Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, Then another thousand, then a second hundred, Then still another thousand, then a hundred; Then, when we've made many thousands, We'll muddle them so as not to knowOr lest some villain overlook usKnowing the total of our kisses.(Translated by Guy Lee)
romance night kisses
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