"Forgive me: when bad fates leave good men stricken,
I doubt the gods are real, and I am shaken.
Live just, die just. Be holy; keep your vows;
still Death will drag you to the charnel house.
Trust in good poems. This tiny urn constrains—
so little’s left!—Tibullus’ scant remains."
—tr of Amores 3.9 by Christopher Childers via @maryanncorbett.bsky.social
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