“Bassus, there are greater things by which one might happily perish: her natural color, the grace of her limbs in motion, and those joys which one may learn of beneath her untelling blouse.”
sunt maiora quibus, Basse, perire iuvat:
ingenuus color et motis decor artubus et quae
gaudia sub tacita discere veste libet.
this deserve a repost, maybe with some more of the poem…