Quotations about:
    tomb

Boy! let my cup with rosy wine o’erflow,
Above the melting of the summer snow:
Let my wet hair with wasteful odour shine,
And loads of roses round my temples twine:
Tombs of the Caesars, your sad honours cry,
“Live, little men, for lo! the gods can die.”

[Sextantes, Calliste, duos infunde Falerni,
Tu super aestivas, Alcime, solve nives,
Pinguescat nimio madidus mihi crinis amomo
Lassenturque rosis tempora sutilibus.
Tam vicina iubent nos vivere Mausolea,
Cum doceant, ipsos posse perire deos.]

Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]

Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 5, epigram 64 (5.64) (AD 90) [tr. Hodgson (1809)]
    (Source)

Martial could see the Mausoleum of Augustus from his house on the Quirinal.

"Summer snow" was snow preserved (or transported from the mountains) until the summer, used like ice to cool drinks.

(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:

You, boy, two measures of brisk wine let flow,
And you, pour on it summer cooling snow;
Let my moist hairs with rich perfumes abound,
With loads of rosy wreaths my temples crown'd:
"Live now," our neighbouring stately tombs do cry,
"Since kings, you see (your petty gods), can die.
[16th C Manuscript]

Two cups, Calistus, of rich wine fill thou,
Thou Alcimus, allay 't with summer snow.
Let my moist haire with richest oyntment sweat;
And sweet rose chaplets on my Temples set.
Come, let us live; the Caesars tombes so nigh
Teach us that even the gods themselves will dye.
[tr. May (1629), 3.65]

Twice four Falernians, dear Callistus, pour:
Diffuse, my Alcimus, the snowy show'r.
Bid my locks fatten with enormous oil:
With textur'd roses make my temples toil.
We learn to live from Mausoleums by,
Which teach us that the gods themselves can dy.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 7, ep. 73]

Fill high the bowl with sparkling wine;
Cool the bright draught with summer snow.
Amid my locks let odours flow;
Around my temples roses twine.
See yon proud emblem of decay,
Yon lordly pile that braves the sky!
It bids us live our little day,
Teaching that gods themselves may die.
[tr. Merivale (1838)]

Fill the double-cyathi cujps with Falernian, pour summer-snow over the wine, let our hair be wet with unstinted perfume, and our temples be loaded with chaplets of roses. The adjacent Mausolea teach us how to live, for they show that even gods can die.
[tr. Amos (1858), 5.65]

Fill double cups of Falernian, Callistus; dissolve into it, Alcimus, the summer snow. Let my hair drip richly with abundance of nard, and my temples be encircled with wreaths of roses. The Mausoleums, close at hand, bid us live, for they teach us that even gods can die.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]

Pour in, Callistus, two double-measures of Falernian; do thou, Alciums, dissolve upon them the summer's snow; let my dripping locks be rich with over-bounteous balm, and my temples droop beneath the knitted roses. Your tombs, so nigh, bid us enjoy life, forasmuch as they teach us that the very gods can die.
[tr. Ker (1919)]

Slave, a full draught of vintage fine,
And bid thy comrade cool the wine,
Let snow its heat allay;
Twine rosy wreaths to deck my head,
Nard shall its precious fragrance shed
To crown my locks to-day;
For Caesar’s tomb that standeth nigh
Doth warn that even gods can die,
I’ll live while yet I may.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921), "Carpe Diem"]

Callistus, pour two bumpers, pour them neat;
Melt, Alcimus, the snow to quench their heat.
In oozy spikenard steep your perfumed hair
And bow my head with rosy garlands fair.
From yonder Mausoleum breathes the sigh,
"Live while thou mayest, gods themselves must die."
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 259]

Pour in an extra cup of dark Falernian.
Strain it through the summer's snow and chill.
Anoint my dripping hair with fragrant perfume,
And crown my head with roses, if you will.
The Mausoleum of divine Augustus
Looming close, so very close nearby,
Orders us to live and love existence
Since even gods themselves decline and die.
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]

Callistus, pour in a double double of Falernian. Alcimus, melt summer snow over it. Let my soaked hair be sleek with an excess of unguent and my temples wearied by stitched roses. The Mausoleum so close at hand tells us to live, teaching that the very gods can perish.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]

Pour me a double measure, of Falernian, Callistus,
and you Alcimus, melt over it summer snows,
let my sleek hair be soaked with excess of perfume,
my brow be wearied beneath the sewn-on rose.
The Mausoleum tells us to live, that one nearby,
it teaches us that the gods themselves can die.
[tr. Kline (2006)]

Callistus, pour me a double of Falernian.
Chill it, Alcimus, with summer snows.
Sleek my damp hair with ample oil of cardamom,
and weight my brows with garlands made of rose.
The Mausoleum of Caesar, so close by,
says, "Live it up, for even gods can die."
[tr. McLean (2014)]