You ask, Lesbia, how many of your kisses
would be enough or more than enough for me.
As great as the number of Libyan grains of sand
that lie in silphium-bearing Cyrene,
between the oracle of sultry Jupiter
and the sacred tomb of ancient Battus,
or as many stars as, when night is silent,
see the secret loves of humans:
so many kisses for you to kiss
are enough and more than enough for mad Catullus,
kisses which neither curious people
are able to count nor an evil tongue curse.
Catullus 7 is tricky, as it seems to balance wholesome love with a touch of sexual voyeurism — thus, it' goes under both "love" and "lust." When Lesbia asks how many kisses will be enough, Catullus answers not with a number but with images of vast abundance: the grains of Libyan sand at silphium-rich Cyrene and the countless stars that witness secret lovers at night. By replacing arithmetic with metaphor, Catullus suggests that love cannot be quantified or satisfied through moderation. At the same time, the reference to “furtivos hominum vident amores” frames their intimacy as private and transgressive, reinforcing love as something that exists outside social surveillance. Even the final insistence that no malicious tongue be able to “fascinare” their kisses implies that love must be protected from envy and external judgment.
Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love,
and let us value all the rumors of
severe old men at only a penny!
Suns are able to set and return:
when once the short light has set
one long night must be slept by us.
Give to me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then quickly a thousand, then a hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands of kisses,
we will throw them to confusion, lest we know,
or anyone wicked can envy
when he knows such kisses exist.
Catullus 5 belongs under both "love" and "lust" because it depicts loving someone as an urgent experience that inherently rejects restraint. From “Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,” Catullus frames love as something inseparable from life itself. He dismisses outside judgment by insisting that the “rumores senum severiorum” be valued at “unius assis,” showing that love matters more than both public opinion and money. The poem’s focus on time — “soles occidere et redire possunt” versus the “una nox perpetua” awaiting all humans — acts as the urgency. And the repeated counting of kisses (“da mi basia mille, deinde centum”) emphasizes physical intimacy and reciprocity, hallmarks of Catullus’s love and lust poetry rather than humor, abstract reflection, or philosophical musings.
Lesbius is pretty. Why not? Lesbia likes him
more than you and your whole people, Catullus.
But still, the pretty boy would sell Catullus along with his people,
if he could get three kisses from friends.
Catullus 79 fits under “lust” because it reduces Catullus' desire to surface-level attraction and social performance rather than emotional attachment, like his love poems. The poem fixates on Lesbius’s physical appeal — his “formosus” appearance — and his success with women, including Catullus’s own lover, but this attractiveness is portrayed as basically interchangeable. By mocking Lesbius for prostituting himself to gain admiration, Catullus frames sexual appeal as a commodity. The insult that Lesbius could rival even a “pulcher” man underscores how lust operates through reputation and display, not intimacy. Unlike Catullus’s love poems, which emphasize exclusivity, reciprocity, or emotional suffering, Poem 79 presents desire as shallow, public, and detached.