«To earthly solace, heart, be not a prey, / To wife and home do not attach yourself, / Take the bread out of your child’s mouth, / And to a stranger give the bread away. Become the humblest servant to the man / Who was your blackest enemy, / Call by your brother’s name the forest wolf,...»
«I’m not of those who left their country / For wolves to tear it limb from limb. / Their flattery does not touch me. / I will not give my songs to them. / / Yet I can take the exile’s part, / I pity all among the dead. / Wanderer, your path is dark, / Wormwood is the stranger’s...»
«Blows the swan wind, / The blue sky’s smeared / With blood; the anniversary / Of your love’s first days draws near. / / You have destroyed / My sorcery; like water the years / Have drifted by. Why / Aren’t you old, but as you were? / / Your tender voice even more ringing....»
«To fall ill as one should, deliriously / Hot, meet everyone again, / To stroll broad avenues in the seashore garden / Full of the wind and the sun. / / Even the dead, today, have agreed to come, / And the exiles, into my house. / Lead the child to me by the hand. / Long I have misse...»