Frater Ave Atque Vale

Row us out to Desenzano

To your Sirmione row

So they rowed

And there we landed O Venusta Sirmio

There to me through all the groves of olive

In the summer glow

There beneath the Roman ruin

Where the purple flowers grow

Came that Ave atque Vale

Of the poet's hopeless woe

Tenderest of Roman poets

Nineteen hundred years ago

Frater Ave atque Vale

As we wandered to and fro

Gazing at the Lydian laughter

Of the garda Lake below

Sweet Catullus all but island olive silvery Sirmio