Cursorem sexta tibi, Rufe, remisimus hora,
carmina quem madidum nostra tulisse reor: imbribus inmodicis caelum nam forte ruebat. Non aliter mitti debuit ille liber. I sent you my messenger, Rufus, at the sixth hour, And I think that he was drenched when he delivered my poems; For it chanced the sky descended with a downpour of rain. In no other way should that book of mine have been sent. |
Martial, Epigrams, Book 3, C
English translation by Walter C. A. Ker
English translation by Walter C. A. Ker
An Iraqi youth dressed as Santa Claus delivers gifts to children in the old city of Mosul. Photo: AFP/Ahmad Al-Rubaye.
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