An exaggerated translation of Catullus 7 Just how many kisses would it take to satisfy my insatiable lips? Let me ponder. How many grains of sand are there on the sweaty coast of the Cotes d'Azur, stretching from the tomb of Paul Valéry all the way to St Tropez, where the grils are almost as … Continue reading 7. Excuse me? How many kisses?
A liberally licentious translation of Catullus V. Come and live and love with me, my darling angel. Let us not care for puritan mouths in endless media scrolls, nor let us spend our beloved lives worrying what unloved harridans have to say for themselves. The suns will set and rise again. But when once our … Continue reading 5. “Give me a thousand kisses…”