Hesterno, Licini, die otiosi
multum lusimus in meis tabellis,
ut convenerat esse delicatos:
scribens versiculos uterque nostrum
ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc,
reddens mutua per iocum atque vinum.
Atque illinc abii tuo lepore
incensus, Licini, facetiisque,
ut nec me miserum cibus iuvaret
nec somnus tegeret quiete ocellos,
sed toto indomitus furore lecto
versarer, cupiens videre lucem,
ut tecum loquerer simulque ut essem.
At defessa labore membra postquam
semimortua lectulo iacebant,
hoc, iucunde, tibi poema feci,
ex quo perspiceres meum dolorem.
Nunc audax cave sis, precesque nostras,
oramus, cave despuas, ocelle,
ne poenas Nemesis reposcat a te.
Est vemens dea: laedere hanc caveto.

O Licinius, we at leisure have played
many things on my boards,
as we agreed to be racy:
and both of us writing small verses
were playing with a meter just here just there,
giving back mutual words through joke and wine.
And from there inflamed I have gone away
from your pleasantness, Licinius, and clever talks,
and as a result neither food helps my misery
nor sleep quietly covers my eyes,
but untamed I as a result might turn with total fury,
desiring to see the light,
so that I might speak with you at the same time I might be with you.
But afterwards the half-dead limbs tired by labor
were lying on a small couch,
delightful jewel, I make this poem for you,
from which you clearly see my grief.
We beg, now beware of being bold and
beware of showing contempt for our prayers,
lest Nemesis demands punishments from you.
She is a violent goddess: You will beware of offending her.