Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.

Love conquers all things.

Sing in me, muse, of arms and a man, who first from the shores of Troy.

May the countryside and the gliding valley streams content me. Lost to fame, let me love river and woodland.

Others may fashion more smoothly images of bronze (I for one believe it), evoke living faces from marble, plead causes better, trace with a wand the wanderings of the heavens and foretell the rising of stars. But you, Roman, remember to rule the peoples with power (these will be your arts); impose the habit of peace, spare the vanquished and war down the proud!

Myself acquainted with misfortune, I learn to help the unfortunate.

Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.