Quid valet altus Amor?
Quid valet altus Amor? Vestīgia flectere suāsit
mīlitiās certī dūcis adīre gravēs:
ignōtum officium - vigilāre apud ostia Gallae -
cūrat; iam sōlā lūdere nocte lyram.
Prīmum capta rudī suspīria, Ō, Galatēa,
saxō fēcit Amor vīvifica ut traherēs!
Sextō claudentēs oriuntur amōre puellae
versūs cēlantis corde secrēta suō.
Dēlia fuit causae, Rōmāne poēta, canendō
nec moritūra lyrā, terse Tibulle, tuā.
What can lofty love do? It urged a general
to bend back his steps, dead-set though he was
on beginning grievous tours of duty.
Now an unaccustomed duty concerns him:
staying up nights by his Galla's door;
serenading her on guitar throughout the lonely night.
And, O, captive of the rough rock, you, Galatea;
Love first caused you to draw life-giving breaths!
Out of love Propertius' limping verses sprang forth,
love for a girl who hid her secrets
deep in her heart;
and Delia was the cause, Roman poet, for your song;
nor will she ever die, concise Tibullus, thanks to your lyre.