Petronius Arbiter remembers a night

 

Qualis nox fuit illa, di deaeque, quam mollis torus. haesimus calentes et transfudimus hinc et hinc labellis errantes animas. valete, curae mortales.

What a night that was, ye gods and goddesses. How soft her breast. Burning we clung together, pouring our breath into each other through lips that wandered here and here. Farewell cares of mortals.