Carmina

Yesterday, Licinius, in leisure much we played upon my tablets, as became us, men of fancy. Each jotting verses in turn played first in this meter then in that, exchanging mutual epigrams amid jokes and wine. But I departed from there, afire, Licinius, with your wit and charm, so that food was useless to my wretched self; nor could sleep close my eyes in quiet, but all over the bed in restless fury did I toss, longing to behold daylight that I might speak with you, and again we might be together. But afterwards, when my limbs, weakened by my restless labours, lay stretched in semi-death upon the bed, I made this poem for you, my delight, from which you will perceive my pain. Now beware of presumptuousness, and beware of rejecting our pleadings, I pray you, apple of my eye, lest Nemesis exact her dues from you. She is a forceful Goddess; beware her wrath.