Nectar, vina, cibus, vestis, doctrina, facultas—
muneribus largis tu mihi, Gogo, sat es;
tu refluus Cicero, tu noster Apicius extas;
hinc satias verbis, pascis et inde cibis.
sed modo da veniam; bubla turgente quiesco,
nam fit lis uteri, si caro mixtra fremat.
hic, ubi bos recubat, fugiet, puto, pullus et anser;
cornibus et pinnis non furor aequus erit.
et modo iam somno languentia lumina claudo,
nam dormire meum carmina lenta probant.
(Venantius Fortunatus 7.2)

Nectar, wine, food, clothing, learning, and wit—with your generous presents, Gogo, you satisfy me. You are a Cicero reborn, an Apicius for our times; like one you gratify with words, like the other you nurture with food. But now, pray, pardon, because of beef not digested I’m calling a halt, for the belly is the site of dispute, if a mixture of meats growls complaints. Here, where the ox reclines, the chicken and goose will, I think, flee; between horns and feathers there will be no equal fight. But now I am closing my drowsy eyes in sleep; this playful poem gives proof of my sleepy state. (tr. Michael Roberts)

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