Septimius, holding his lover Acme
in his bosom, said, “my Acme,
if I do not love you desperately and I am not further
prepared to love you continually through all the years,
as much as he who is prepared to die many deaths,
alone in Libya and scorched India
may I come to meet the blue eyed lion.”
As he said this, Love sneezed approval on
the left as before on the right.
But Acme, bending back her head lightly,
and having kissed the drunken eyes
of the sweet boy with a purple mouth,
“so,” she said, “my love, dear Septimius,
let us serve this one master continually,
that a flame much greater and sharper
burn for me in the gentle marrow.”
As she said this, Love sneezed approval on
the left as before on the right.
Now, having set out from the good omen
their souls mutually love and are loved.
Poor little Septimius prefers Acme alone
to Syria and Britain:
the faithful Acme finds pleasure
and desire in Septimius alone.
Who has seen anybody more blessed,
who a luckier love?

Acmen Septimius suos amores
tenens in gremio ‘mea’' inquit ‘Acme,
ni te perdite amo atque amare porro
omnes sum assidue paratus annos,
quantum qui pote plurimum perire,
solus in Libya Indiaque tosta
caesio veniam obvius leoni.’
Hoc ut dixit, Amor sinistra ut ante
dextra sternuit approbationem.
At Acme leviter caput reflectens
et dulcis pueri ebrios ocellos
illo purpureo ore suaviata,
‘sic’ inquit ‘mea vita Septimille,
huic uni domino usque serviamus,
ut multo mihi maior acriorque
ignis mollibus ardet in medullis.’
Hoc ut dixit, Amor sinistra ut ante
dextra sternuit approbationem.
Nunc ab auspicio bono profecti
mutuis animis amant amantur.
Unam Septimius misellus Acmen
mavult quam Syrias Britanniasque:
uno in Septimio fidelis Acme
facit delicias libidinisque.
Quis ullos homines beatiores
vidit, quis Venerem auspicatiorem?

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