Catullus 4

That ship which you see, guests, says that it was the fastest of ships, and it denies that the speed of any floating timber surpasses, whether work will be to fly by oars or sail. And it says that the shore of threatening Adriadic does not deny this (speed), or the Cycladic islands and noble Rhodes and terrible Thracian Propontians or the ferocious bay (where that later skiff was before leafy forest—for on the Cytorian ridge it often yielded a whispering sound). (O) Amastris sea and boxwood-bearing Cytorus, the skiff says that these things were and are very well-known to you. It says that it stood on your peak from its ultimate beginning, it drenched its oars in your water; and thence through so many wild straits it carried its master, (whether) a left or right wind calls, or a favorable Jupiter fell upon each sail at the same time; nor were any vows made for itself to the shore gods, when it came from the newest sea right up to this clear lake. But these things were before; now it is old in its quiet rest, and dedicates itself to you , little twin Castor and the little twin of Castor.

Catullus 3

Mourn, oh Venuses and Cupids,
and whatever there is of the more charming people:
The sparrow of my girl is dead,
the sparrow, delight of my girl,
which she used to love more than her own eyes—
for it was honey sweet and had known
her own mistress herself as well as a girl (knows) her mother,
nor did it used to move itself from the lap of that (woman),
But, hopping around now here now there
It used to chirp constantly to its mistress alone:
Which now goes through that shadowy journey
whence they say no one returns.
But let it be bad for you, evil shadows of Orcus
You which devour all beautiful things:
You who took so beautiful a bird from me
Oh evil deed! Oh poor little sparrow!
Now the little eyes of my girl, swollen with sobbing,
Are reddened by your deed.

Catullus 2

Sparrow, delight of my girl, with whom she is accustomed to play, which (she is accustomed) to hold in her lap, to whom, attacking, (she is accustomed) to give her finger tip and to arouse sharp bites, when it is pleasing for my shining desire to play at something dear and a little comfort of her pain, I believe, that then her heavy passion lessens: would that I were able to play with you as she herself does and soothe the sad cares of (my) mind!
…
It is as pleasing to me as they say was the golden apple to the swift girl, which untied the belt long tied.

Catullus 1

To whom do I give my new little book, charming (and) just polished with a dry pumice. To you , Cornelius, for you were accustomed to think my scribbles were something. Now then when you dared, one man, to set out whole age of the Italians in three scrolls. . .learned, by Jupiter, and laborious! Therefore have for yourself this something of a little book—which, whatever (it is), o patron maiden, may it remain more than one constant generation.