Horace

“ There you will inhale
incense in profusion and you will enjoy the lyre
and the Berecyntian pipe,
mixed with songs, not without the panpipes;
there, twice a day, boys
with tender maidens, praising your divinity,
with white feet
will beat the ground in triple time in the Salian way.
Neither a woman nor a boy
nor the innocent hope of a mutual feeling pleases me now
nor competing with wine,
nor decorating my temple with fresh garlands. ”

“ I am not the man I was
under the reign of Cinara the good. Stop, savage
mother of sweet desires,
trying to sway one of around fifty years, hardened now
to your soft commands: leave,
to where the alluring prayers of young men call you back. ”