The sun of shame A transparent secret And inside - hellfire rays My red hands strangle you And my lips are white I love you to death The sun of shame You choke from my white lips And inside - hellfire - secret. [+ Catullus poem 52:] Quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori? Sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet, Per consulatum peierat Vatinius: Quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori?