Ad Poetam. xxix
Scribe, te simul atque pungit œstrus,
Ne campus misere areat morato.
Si prœsto nihil est boni aut faceti,
Scribe: mens calamo calet calenti.
To a poet.
Write! As soon as fury jabs you,
Don't, sad, cede the battle then.
If nothing good or smart redeems it
Write hot mind with scalding pen.
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