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What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.

Catullus

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Catullus
Poet
Writer
Gaius Valerius Catullus
Says
Water
Woman
Write
Running
Eager
Women
Lover
Writing
Lovers
Air

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So a maiden, whilst she remains untouched, so long is she dear to her own when she has lost her chaste flower with sullied body, she remains neither lovely to boys nor dear to girls.
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Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her.
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There is nothing more foolish than a foolish laugh. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est
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What woman says to fond lover should be written on air or the swift water. [Lat., Mulier cupido quod dicit amanti, In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.]
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My mind's sunk so low, Claudia, because of you, wrecked itself on your account so bad already, that I couldn't like you if you were the best of women, -or stop loving you, no matter what you do.
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Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
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My lady's sparrow is dead, the sparrow which was my lady's delight
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I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.
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It is difficult to suddenly give up a long love. Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem
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The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods.
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We see not our own backs.
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Who now travels that dark path from whose bourne they say no one returns. [Lat., Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum Illue unde negant redire quemquam.]
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I hate and love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask. I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.
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There is nothing more silly than a silly laugh.
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It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
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For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.
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Every one has his faults: but we do not see the wallet on our own backs.
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I hate and I love. Perchance you ask why I do that. I know not, but I feel that I do and I am tortured. [Lat., Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris. Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.]
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Away with you, water, destruction of wine!
Catullus