You will dine well, my (dear) Fabullus, at my house
in a few days, if the gods favor you,
and if you bring with you a large and good dinner,
not without a bright girl
and wine and salt[/wit] and laughter for all.
If you bring these, I say, our charming one,
you will dine well—for your Catullus's
purse is full of cobwebs.
But in return you will receive my undiluted affections
or that which is sweeter and more elegant:
for I will give perfume, which the Venuses
and Cupids gave to my girl,
and when you smell it, you will ask the gods
that they make all of you, Fabullus, a nose.
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Cēnābis bene, mī Fabulle, apud mē
paucīs, sī tibi dī favent, diēbus,
sī tēcum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cēnam, nōn sine candidā puellā
et vīnō et sale et omnibus cachinnīs.
Haec sī, inquam, attuleris, venuste noster,
cēnābis bene; nam tuī Catullī
plēnus sacculus est arāneārum.
Sed contrā accipiēs merōs amōrēs,
seu quid suāvius ēlegantiusve est:
nam unguentum dabŏ, quod meae puellae
dōnārunt Venerēs Cupīdinēsque;
quod tū cum olfaciēs, deōs rogābis
tōtum ut tē faciant, Fabulle, nāsum.
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