How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

Death is an ill; 'tis thus the Gods decide: / For had death been a boon, the Gods had died.

The moon is setand the Pleiades; Middle ofthe night, time passes by,I lie alone.

May I write words more naked than flesh, stronger than bone, more resilient than sinew, sensitive than nerve.

To me the Muses truly gave / An envied and a happy lot: / E'en when I lie within the grave, / I cannot, shall not, be forgot.

Death is an evil; the gods have so judged; had it been good, they would die.