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My lady’s sparrow is dead, the sparrow which was my lady’s delight

Related Topics

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Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods.
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What woman says to fond lover should be written on air or the swift water. [Lat., Mulier cupido quod dicit amanti, In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.]
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
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Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
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There is nothing more silly than a silly laugh.
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Away with you, water, destruction of wine!
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But you shall not escape my iambics.
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It is difficult to suddenly give up a long love. Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem
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I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
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Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her.
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Every one has his faults: but we do not see the wallet on our own backs.
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The vows that woman makes to her fond lover are only fit to be written on air or on the swiftly passing stream.
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I hate and I love, and who can tell me why?
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Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.
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I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.
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To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?
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