My boy, as long as your cheeks and chin are smooth, I shall never Cease to praise you, not even if I am fated to die. For you, the giver, it is still honorable, and for me as lover it is not shameful To ask. But I beseech you, in the name of my parents: Show me respect, my boy, and grant me favor. If in time to come, Craving in your turn the gift of the violet-crowned Cyprian, you shall approach another, then may the gods Grant that you meet with just such words as I hear now.