XLVI: Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth

Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth,
Now doth Zephyrus, health benignly breathing,
Still the boisterous equinoctial heaven.

Leave we Phrygia, leave the plains, Catullus,
Leave Nicaea, the sultry soil of harvest:
On for Asia, for the starry cities.
Now all flurry the soul is out a-ranging,
Now with vigour aflame the feet renew them.

Farewell company true, my lovely comrades.
You so joyfully borne from home together,
Now o'er many a weary way returning.