Lesbia always speaks ill of me, never shuts up about me: damn me if she doesn’t love me. What’s the sign? Because it’s the same with me: I’m continually complaining, but damn me if I don’t love her. —Catullus (Gaius Valerius Catullus) Catullus 92, translated by A. S. Kline . . .
Let’s Live and Love: To Lesbia
Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love, and all the words of the old, and so moral, may they be worth less than nothing to us! Suns may set, and suns may rise again: but when our brief light has set, night is one long everlasting sleep. Give me a thousand kisses, a hundred more, another . . .