LXXII

There was a time you said you knew only Catullus,

Lesbia, that you wouldn’t want to hold Jupiter over me.

I loved you then not just as a man loves his girlfriend,

But as a father loves his sons and sons-in-law.

Now I have got to know you. So even if I burn more deeply

You are still much cheaper and less significant to me.

How can that be, you say? Because such a wound compels a lover

To love more, but to like less.