Maxioms by Marcus Valerius Martial
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
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What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
'Tis doubt, my Postumus, he that doth smell
So sweetly always, smells not very well.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.
To have nothing is not poverty.
[Lat., Non est paupertas, Nestor, habere nihil.]
To have nothing is not poverty.
[Lat., Non est paupertas, Nestor, habere nihil.]
Lycoris has buried all the female friends she had, Fabianus:
would she were the friend of my wife!
Lycoris has buried all the female friends she had, Fabianus:
would she were the friend of my wife!
See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this read more
See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this possibly grow?
