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Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
Lycoris has buried all the female friends she had, Fabianus:
would she were the friend of my wife!
Lycoris has buried all the female friends she had, Fabianus:
would she were the friend of my wife!
When to secure your bald pate from the weather,
You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather;
read more
When to secure your bald pate from the weather,
You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather;
He was a very wag, who to you said,
"Why do you wear your slippers on your head?"
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is read more
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is indeed a
free speaker.
Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
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Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
with my works? I have an excellent reason; it is lest you should
present me with yours.
You put fine dishes on your table, Olus, but you always put them
on covered. This is ridiculous; in read more
You put fine dishes on your table, Olus, but you always put them
on covered. This is ridiculous; in the same way I could put fine
dished on my table.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
You were constantly, Matho, a guest at my villa at Tivoli. Now
you buy it--I have deceived you; I read more
You were constantly, Matho, a guest at my villa at Tivoli. Now
you buy it--I have deceived you; I have merely sold you what was
already your own.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.