I hate and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you ask. I do not know, but I sense that it is happening and I am tortured.

Tongilianus, you paid two hundred for your house; An accident much common in this city destroyed it. You collected ten times more. Doesn’t it seem, I pray, That you set fire to your own house, Tongilianus?

To your shades Fronto, and Flacilla, this child I commend: she was my sweet and my delight. Little Erotion shall not fear the darkened shades nor the vast mouths of the Tartarean hound. She’d have completed her sixth chill winter, if she’d not lived a mere six days too few. Now let her frisk and [...]

I have completed a monument more lasting than bronze and far higher than that royal pile of Pyramids, which the gnawing rain and furious north wind cannot destroy, nor the chain of countless years and the flight of time. My end won’t be complete, and a great part of me will evade the death-god: I’ll [...]

The snows have fled, already the grass returns to the fields and leaves return to the trees. Earth is turning her changes, the rivers flow less strongly. Grace along with her Nymphs and twin sisters ventures naked to lead her bands of dancers. “Hope for immortality not”, warn the year and the hour that steal [...]

Mourn, oh Cupids and Venuses, and whatever there is of rather pleasing men: the sparrow of my girlfriend has died, the sparrow, delight of my girl, whom she loved more than her own eyes. For it was honey-sweet and it had known its mistress as well as a girl knew her mother, nor did it [...]

You feign youth, Laetinus, with your dyed hair So suddenly you are a raven, but just now you were a swan. You do not deceive anybody. Proserpina knows you are grey-haired; She will remove the mask from your head.

Furius, your villa stands neither against the winds blowing from the south nor from the west, nor from fierce Borea nor from Apheliota. No, it stands against fifteen thousand and two hundred sesterces. What a dreadful and noxious wind.