Beauty is fading, nor is fortune stable; sooner or later death comes to all.
Let each man pass his days in that endeavor wherein his gift is greatest.
Even if my strength should fail, my daring will win me praise: in might enterprises even the will to succeed is enough.
No rival will steal away my sure love; that glory will be my gray hair.
Tell me who is able to keep his bed chaste, or which goddess is able to live with one god alone?
Among absent lovers, ardor always fares better.