It is forbidden, my thick Aristip:
Though I love your conversations,
Your cute character, your dear wheeze,
Your taste and fatty meals,
But I can not go with you
By midday bregam Tauris.
Asking me not to forget,
Pet called Bacchus and Kipridы!
When the consumptive father
A bit skinny Aeneid
Launched into the sea last,
he Horace, smart smoothie.
Sent solemn ode,
Where other Augustow singer
Promised good weather.
But flattering odes I do not write;
You're not into consumption, glory of God:
In heaven I will ask
Only appetite on the road.
