Flavius, unless your delights <br />were tasteless and inelegant, <br />you’d want to tell, and couldn’t be silent. <br />Surely you’re in love with some feverish <br />little whore: you’re ashamed to confess it. <br />Now, pointlessly silent, you don’t seem to be <br />idle of nights, it’s proclaimed by your bed <br />garlanded, fragrant with Syrian perfume, <br />squashed cushions and pillows, here and there, <br />and the trembling frame shaken, <br />quivering and wandering about. <br />But being silent does nothing for you. <br />Why? Spread thighs blab it’s not so, <br />if not quite what foolishness you commit. <br />How and whatever you’ve got, good or bad, <br />tell us. I want to name you and your loves <br />to the heavens in charming verse.<br /><br />Gaius Valerius Catullus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flavius-s-girl-to-flavius/
