Is this Cinna the poet that gets killed in Shakespeare?

CATULLUS 95

Nine years, dear Cinna, and it's worth the wait.

Your tenants brought rich harvests in nine times.

Nine winters froze. Yet 'Smyrna' isn't late...

Hortensius wrote fifty thousand rhymes

in those nine years. In far off years and climes

they'll read you. While his work will dissipate

forgotten; all those pages used to wrap

cat litter, fish and chips. It's all such crap.