One of the things I love best about Catullus's poetry is how poignantly tender and wistful he can be, even when at his most ironic and scathing in his socio-political criticisms.
The opening line of Carmen 52: "Quid est, Catulle? Quid moraris emori?" is one of these moments.
What is it, Catullus? Why do you not make haste to die?
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