“and over your unconsecrated head you'll hear the howling wolveslament their fate and yours the livelong year;”

“Forest, I fear you! In my ruined heart your roaring wakens the same agony as in cathedrals when the organ moans and from the depths I hear that I am damned.”

“My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,A sultan's favoured slave may show to him.When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,This blazing blend of metal crossed with stone,Gives me an ecstasy I've only knownWhere league of sound and luster can be found.She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.My love was deep and gentle as the seasAnd rose to her as to a cliff the tide.My own approval of each dreamy pose,Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:And candour, with lubricity united,Gave piquancy to every one she chose.Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustres,Before my eyes clairvoyant and serene,Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;Her breasts and belly, of my vine and clusters,Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,To kill the peace which over me she'd thrown,And to disturb her from the crystal throneWhere, calm and solitary, she was sitting.So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,Antiope's white rump it seemed to graftTo a boy's torso, merging fore and aft.The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine.The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,And every time it sighed a crimson flareIt drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin”

“You are sitting and smoking; you believe that you are sitting in your pipe, and that your pipe is smoking you; you are exhaling yourself in bluish clouds. You feel just fine in this position, and only one thing gives you worry or concern: how will you ever be able to get out of your pipe?”

“Tell me, enigmatical man, whom do you love best, your father,Your mother, your sister, or your brother?I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.Your friends?Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.Your country?I do not know in what latitude it lies.Beauty?I could indeed love her, Goddess and Immortal.Gold?I hate it as you hate God.Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger?I love the clouds the clouds that pass up thereUp there the wonderful clouds!”

“Ant swarming CityCity full of dreamsWhere in broad day the specter tugs your sleeve”

“Go then, a starveling girl With no perfume or pearls, Only your nudity O my beauty!”