Love – bittersweet, irrepressible – loosens my limbs and I tremble.
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Anand Thakur
Love – bittersweet, irrepressible – loosens my limbs and I tremble.
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Love shook my heart/ Like the wind on the mountain/ Troubling the oak-trees.
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I took my lyre and said: come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument.
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You may forget but let me tell you this: someone in some future time will think of us.
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Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.
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Death is an evil; the gods have so judged; had it been good, they would die.
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Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.
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The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars.
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The moon has set In a bank of jet That fringes the Western sky, The pleiads seven Have sunk from heaven And the midnight hurries by; My hopes are flown And, alas! alone On my weary couch I lie.
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Eros seizes and shakes my very soul like the wind on the mountain shaking ancient oaks.
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When anger spreads through the breath, guard thy tongue from barking idly.
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What cannot be said will be wept.
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Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
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Death is an ill; ’tis thus the Gods decide: / For had death been a boon, the Gods had died.
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Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
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The Moon and Pleiades have set, Midnight is nigh, The time is passing, passing, yet Alone I lie.
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