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You ask, how many kisses of yours, Lesbia, may be enough and to spare for me. As
the countless Libyan sands which strew asafoetida-bearing Cyrene between the oracle of sweltering Jove
and the sacred tomb of ancient Battus, or as the many stars, when night is
silent, look upon the furtive loves of mortals, to kiss you with kisses of so
great a number is enough and to spare for passion-driven Catullus: so many that
prying eyes may not avail to number, nor ill tongues to bewitch.
Catullus. The Carmina of Gaius Valerius Catullus. Leonard C. Smithers. London. Smithers. 1894.
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