Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
Catullus, poem 5
Let us live, my cherished, let us love.
To all the whisperings of our grey-haired critics
we'll pay no mind; they're not worth one plug nickel.
The sun may fall; the sun may yet ascend;
but for us two, when our brief candle's snuffed,
night will be sleep, one sleeping without end.
So kiss me a thousand times --- or just a hundred?
Maybe a thousand more! A second hundred!
Then, if you can, a hundred thousand more,
and when we've taken our whole inventory,
we'll screw it up, and happily forget
how many thousand kisses we've exchanged,
and envious souls will lose their evidence.
Poetry by Thomas D
Read 28 times
Written on 2021-01-06 at 11:11
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