Carmina

My Cinna's Zmyrna finally, after the ninth harvest it was begun, and after the ninth winter it was published, when Hortensius meanwhile five hundred thousand [lines] in one [year]--- Zmyrna will be sent to the curving waves of innermost Satrachus, hoary ages will roll out Zmyrna long hence. But Volusius' Annals will die at Padua itself, and will often furnish loose wrappings for mackerel. May the short works of my comrade remain in my heart; as for the people, let them rejoice in bloated Antimachus.

Calvus, if anything pleasing or welcome from our grief can have an effect on silent graves, then with its longing we renew old loves and weep friendships once lost, surely Quintilia does not mourn her premature death as much as she rejoices in your love.

So may the Gods love me, I did not think it made any difference whether I smelled Aemilius' mouth or his arse. In no respect is the latter cleaner, the former filthier; as a matter of fact, his backside is cleaner and better—for it comes without teeth. His mouth has teeth a foot and a half long, gums truly like an old wagon-box, and besides, he usually has a maw like the split twat of a she-mule pissing in the summer heat. This man has sex with many girls, and makes himself out to be charming, and is not condemned to the mill [to drive] the mule? Any girl who would touch him we would think could lick the arse of a diseased hangman.

What can be said to you, if to anyone, stinking Victius, is said to wind bags and fools. For with that tongue, if the occasion should arise, you could lick arses and farmers' boots. If you want to destroy us altogether, Victius, yawn: you will accomplish what you want altogether.