Catullus and Sting

This poem

Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love,
and let us count the comments of censuring old men as one copper.
Suns are able to set and rise again.
For us, when the brief light sets once and for all
there is an endless night which must be slept through.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred.
Then another thousand, then a second hundred.
Then, constantly, another thousand, then a hundred.
Then, when we have done that many thousands of times,
let us confuse the count, so that we ourselves don’t know.
–Gaius Valerius Catullus

reminds of me of this song.

A thousand years, a thousand more,
A thousand times a million doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face

A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point , this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head

I may be numberless, I may be innocent
I may know many things, I may be ignorant
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times
Reborn as fortune’s child to judge another’s crimes
Or wear this pilgrim’s cloak, or be a common thief
I’ve kept this single faith, I have but one belief

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves
Eternities still unsaid
‘Til you love me

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