Letter 6010: I wait for you, my love, venerable Dynamius,
I wait for you, my love, venerable Dynamius,
though you are absent — whom my care sees even so.
I ask which winds carry you, where you are now;
if you flee my eyes, you do not flee my heart.
The pleasures of Marseille hold you, while Germania holds me:
torn from your sight, I am still joined to you in spirit.
Without you your own land must be a little empty for you,
as this country of mines is empty without you in it.
But letters cross the miles and carry the shape of a friend
when the friend himself cannot come.
Your last letter I read three times —
once for the news, once for the pleasure of your phrasing,
and once because I was not ready to stop hearing your voice.
Come when you can. Or write, at least.
Let me hear how Marseille treats you,
what the sea looks like from your window,
whether the wine of the south is still as remarkable
as I remember from my last visit.
Tell me everything. Distance is not a friend to friendship,
but letters are a very reasonable substitute.
Your Fortunatus
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.
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