Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Ode 1.25 lyrics

Less and less do the randy boys come rattling your shut window now with their plaintive pebbles, nor for that matter trouble your sleep. Your door now clamps at the threshold where it once so easily opened up on supple hinges. Less and less do you hear now: “Night on night, I die for you, darling. How can you keep on sleeping?” Soon your age will come. For old, puffy lechers you will weep alone on the lonely curb, whilst harder winds are teased by the dark new moon of Thrace on the mountains. Then you'll feel: A lover's old lust shall sear you, that untamed libido, deranging horses, raging in the crux of your riddled loins, while you go weeping for how boys would rather enjoy the greener growth of ivy now and the darker myrtle, tossing lifeless leaves to the gods of winter- -wind on the mountain.