Wheelock's Latin_Chapter Two

SENTENTIAE ANTIQUAE
1. Salve, O patria!
        Greetings, O fatherland!
2. Fama et sententia volant.
        Rumor and thought fly.
3. Da veniam puellae, amabo te.
        Give pardon to the girl, please.
4. Clementia tua multas vitas servat.
        Your clemency saves many lives.
5. Multam pecuniam deportat.
         He carries away much money.
6. Fortunam et vitam antiquae patriae saepe laudas et recusas.
         You often praise but refuse the fortune and life of the ancient fatherland.
7. Me vitare tubam iubes.
         You order me to avoid the crowd.
8. Me philosophiae do.
         I give myself to philosophy.
9. Philsophia est ars vitae.
         Philosophy is the art of life.
10. Sanam fortunam vitae conservate.
         Save a sound form of life.
11. Immodica ira creat insaniam.
         Immoderate anger creates insanity.
12. Quid cogitas?- debemus iram vitare.
         What do you think? We ought to avoid anger.
13. Nulla avaritia sine poena est.
          No avarice is without penalty.
14. Me saevis catenis onerat.
          He oppresses me with cruel chains.
15.  Rotam fortunae non timent.
          They do not fear the wheel of fortune.
16. The girls save the poet's life.
          Puellae vitam poetae servant.
17. Without philsophy we often go astray and pay the penalty.
          Sine philosophia saepe erramus et poenas damus.
18.  If your land is strong, nothing terrifies the sailors and you ought to praise your great fortune.
          Si patria tua valet, nihil nautas terret et fortunam magnam tuam laudare debes.
19. We often see the penalty of anger.
          Poenam irae saepe videmus.
20. The ancient gate is large.
          Porta antiqua est magna.

CATULLUS BIDS HIS GIRLFRIEND FAREWELL
          Puella mea me non amat. Vale, puella! Catullus obdurat: poeta puellam non amat, formam puellae non laudat, puellae rosas non dat, et puellam non basiat! Ira mea est magna! Obduro, mea puella- sed sine te non valeo.
           My girl doesn't love me. Farewell, girl! Catullus is tough: the poet does not love the girl, he does not praise the beauty of the girl, he does not give roses to the girl, and he does not kiss the girl. My anger is great! I am tough, my girl- but without you I am not well.