rob-flynnWhisper

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Catullus RevisitedCarried through many a foreign land and much-unknown people, / I arrive to these mis’rable funeral motions / Only so I may present you with this final death-gift

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718

Poema Mortis‘Til death approach with bony fingers bared, / ‘Til face-to-face I come with that dark ghost, / Until I see his scythe and black cloak paired,

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702

Who You AreI don’t know who you think you are, / Or who you think I am, / But I know we go together;

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697

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