Oat fields sigh. A slap in the eye From a bush in passing. Towards the Middle Ages vast and delicate I needs must sail, the shipwreck in my heart, Far from our carnal mind and the sad flesh. Good for the belly, and bad for the head, Badness en masse then goodness again.
They say bloody battles are being fought down there. O lacking power, so feeble, such tardy prayer, O lacking the will to embellish reality! O lacking the will and power to die a little! Ah! All is drunk! Here are Tircis and Aminta And the eternal Clitander, And Damis who makes for many a Cruel one, many a verse that’s tender. The slave will sometimes raise the height, Rascal, higher than he needs, Of his sumptuous load, so he May see what he dreams of at night; Yet she appears now unaware As up the flight of stairs she goes How insolent approval shows In her familiar creatures’ stare. Mandoline (Fêtes Galants: Mandoline) The players of serenades And their lovely listeners Swap insipid remarks, made Beneath singing branches. Opulent treasure whose rich note Asks a god’s torso, bare, as prize.
Autumn Makes the thrush fly through colourless air, And the sun casts its monotonous glare On the yellowing woods where the north winds hum. We were alone, and walking in dream, She and I, hair and thoughts wind-blown. Спинка связана без аранов, лицевой гладью. на фотохостинг → И связалась еще одна кофтейка-балерошка для второй племянницы. Her name? I remember it’s vibrant and dear, As those of the loved that life has exiled. Paddington Beauty Of Women…. (Sagesse: Bk I, I) Beauty of women, their frailty, and those pale hands Which often do good yet can bring all suffering.