Furius and Aurelius, you friends of Catullus, <br />whether he penetrates farthest India, <br />where the Eastern waves strike the shore <br />with deep resonance, <br />or among the Hyrcanians and supple Arabs, <br />or Sacians and Parthian bowmen, <br />or where the seven-mouthed Nile <br />colours the waters, <br />or whether he’ll climb the high Alps, <br />viewing great Caesar’s monuments, <br />the waters of Gallic Rhine, <br />and the furthest fierce Britons, <br />whatever the will of the heavens <br />brings, ready now for anything, <br />tell my girl this in a few <br />ill-omened words. <br />Let her live and be happy with her adulterers, <br />hold all three-hundred in her embrace, <br />truly love-less, wearing them all down <br />again and again: let her not look for <br />my love as before, <br />she whose crime destroyed it, like the last <br />flower of the field, touched once <br />by the passing plough.<br /><br />Gaius Valerius Catullus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/words-against-lesbia-to-furius-and-aurelius/
