It would be difficult for me not to conclude that the most perfect type of masculine beauty is Satan, as portrayed by Milton.
— Who dares, in front of Love, to mention Hell?Curbed forever be that useless dreamer Who first imagined, in his brutish mind, Of sheer futility the fatuous schemer, Honour with Love could ever be com...
İşte onlar gibi biri, Venüs heykelinin altlığına büzülmüş, ölümsüz tanrıçaya bakıp gözyaşları döküyor... Gel gör ki insafsız Venüs, uzaklara bilmediğim bir şeylere bakıyor mermer gözleriyle.
When I was young I lived a constant storm,Though now and then the brilliant suns shot through,So in my garden few red fruits were born,The rain and thunder had so much to do.-
The crowd is his element, as the air is that of birds and water of fishes. His passion and his profession are to become one flesh with the crowd. For the perfect flâneur, for the passionate spectator,...
The child, in love with prints and maps,Holds the whole world in his vast appetite.How large the earth is under the lamplight!But in the eyes of memory, how the world is cramped!
Scent, sound or sight, beneficent, malign – Who cares if you’re a blessing or a curse, So long as you bring light,
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,Luxe, calme et volupté.(L'Invitation au Voyage)
I worship you like night's pavilion,O vase of sadness, o great silent one,And love you more since you escape from me,And since you seem, my night's sublimity,To mock me and increase the leagues that l...
Go then, a starveling girl With no perfume or pearls,
Bisogna sempre essere ubriachi. Tutto qui: è l'unico problema. Per non sentire l'orribile fardello del Tempo che vi spezza la schiena e vi tiene a terra, dovete ubriacarvi senza tregua. Ma di che cosa...
He who looks through an open window sees fewer things than he who looks through a closed window.
You are sitting and smoking; you believe that you are sitting in your pipe, and that is smoking ; you are exhaling in bluish clouds. You feel just fine in this position, and only one thing gives you...
The old Paris is no more (the form of a city changes faster, alas! than a mortal's heart).
Passion sits on the skull Of Humanity, And this infidel enthroned Laughs shamelessly, And gaily blows round bubbles That will fly, As if to join with worlds Deep in the sky. Rising on high, the frail...
Cum alţii prin iubire-ar vrea,să stăpânească viaţa ta,eu vreau s-o stăpânesc prin groază.
Be Drunken, Always. That is the point; nothing else matters. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weigh you down and crush you to the earth, be drunken continually.
I should like the fields tinged with red, the rivers yellow and the trees painted blue. Nature has no imagination.
Who in the face of love dares speak to me of Hell!-
The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd. The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself or some one else, as he chooses....