Discussion between Octavia & Virgil
in an Anthenian mansion
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Ten-thousand sesterces grant you
for second, fourth and sixth recites,
how difficult donations too,
encourage worse for tensile nights.
My son to whom in death revives,
a trenchant honed on public praise,
be asked of you, if it survives
for gluttonies of worn out phrase.
And courage has no part to play;
between the rise and sunsets down
tonight though if it should outweigh,
the prospect from more tears to drown...
For sorrow hath encouraged more
beyond an eyefuls blur foresee
so weary detail solemn's core;
hast satiate such flaunt before.
How sympathy to dying seems,
it saturates the undue term
as wisely tending loosely themes,
inadequately held but firm.
A ghastly shame hath Virgil been,
inviting blame by brevity
assure thee that malaise within;
for inclined thought proclivity.
... you shall be Marcellus ellege
that overall paternal traits;
where draped is bound for privilege,
far worthier for cause translates.
And since the death of Sychaeus,
hath sworn esteems should fill extol
as clemency from of both of us,
should as indulged be wonderful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem