«The thread of golden honey flowed from the bottle / so heavy and slow that our hostess had time to declare: / Here in melancholy Tauris, where fate has brought us, / we are not at all bored — and glanced back over her shoulder. On all side the rites of Bacchus, as if the world / held only...»
«Heaviness, tenderness — sisters — your marks are the same. / The wasps and the honey bees suck at the heavy rose. / Man dies, heat drains from the once warm sand, / and on a black bier they carry off yesterday's sun. Oh, you tender nets and you heavy honeycombs, / Easier to lift a ston...»
«Take from my palms some sun to bring you joy / and take a little honey — so the bees / of cold Persephone commanded us. No loosing of the boat that is not moored, / no hearing of the shadow shod in fur, / no overcoming fear in life's dense wood. And kisses are all that's left us now, / ...»
«People? What do I care about people? / A peasant leading a bull; / A market woman, squatting — all / Breasts and legs, no waist, a shawl. And nature? Here's nature for you — / Rain and cold, or heat. / And tedium in all seasons, / Like the buzzing of a gnat. Of course, there are di...»