«Many items, maybe, will be proud / To be sung by my poetic voice: / That is, wordless, roaring around, / Or eroding stones underground, / Or forcing its way through smoke’s coils. / And I want to take into account / Fire, wind and water, so far… / That is why my dreams, as I have ...»
«I was not here for hundreds years, / But nothing changed for ages here… / In the same way the divine lyre / Pours bliss from the eternal crests. Same are the waters and stars’ throngs, / And endless bleakness of skies’ domes, / And flying seeds in airy flows, / And mothers sing th...»
«When, in the night, I wait for her, impatient, / Life seems to me, as hanging by a thread. / What just means liberty, or youth, or approbation, / When compared with the gentle piper's tread? And she came in, threw out the mantle's edges, / Declined to me with a sincere heed. / I say to he...»
«Muse went away by the road, / The autumnal, narrow, steep, / And her swarthy feet were slopped, / With large drops of dew in her slip. I begged her, with hope and fear, / To stay till the winter’s white lace, / She answered, “There is a grave here, / How can you still breathe in su...»