Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“ Here on my breast flows her hair, an abundance of curls, while her head rests, Pressing my arm as it's bent, so as to pillow her neck. What a delicious condition, if only these few tranquil moments Could in my memory fix firmly that image of joy When the night rocked us to sleep—but in slumber she's moving away now, From my side turns, as she goes leaving her hand in my hand. Love in our hearts makes us one, as the genuine need there stays constant; Only returning desire knows oscillation or change. Gently her hand presses mine, now she opens her eyes and is looking Into my own eyes. ”

“ And as for you, little poems, o grow and flower, your blossoms Cradling themselves in the air, tepid and soft with love's breath. Wafting, betray to Quirites, as Midas' reeds did with cheap gossip, One happy couple in love, and their sweet secret, at last.
XXIV I in the back of the garden, the last of the gods, in a corner, Ineptly formed, must I stand. Evil the inroads of time. Cucumber vines grow entwining about this primeval lingam, Cracking it almost in two under the weight of the fruit. ”

“ I Here's where I've planted my garden and here I shall care for love's blossoms— As I am taught by my muse, carefully sort them in plots: Fertile branches, whose product is golden fruit of my lifetime, Set here in happier years, tended with pleasure today. ”

“ Tarry no longer today. Go seek other realms beneath heaven. Sooner depart and leave Rome's seven famed hills to me. Please do the poet a favor and shorten the glorious hours Which the painter devours, eagerly filling his eyes. Cast now but one ardent glance, while descending, on noble façades and Cupolas, pillars, and—last—up at the obelisks. Then Hastily plunge to the ocean. Come view all the sooner tomorrow That which, for centuries now, gods have let you enjoy: Italy's shoreline so long overgrown with moist reeds, elevations Somberly rising to shades cast by the bushes and trees. ”

“ Unworthy of women are men. We, who carry your children Next to our hearts, in these hearts loyalty we bear you, too. As for you men, when you've poured out your potency in our embraces And your desires dissipate, love with them passes away." These things expressed, and taking her child from its chair, my beloved Presses it close to her heart, kisses it, tears in her eyes. ”

“ Simple dress of rough homespun, At but a lover's mere touch, tumbles in folds to the floor. Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen— Just as a nursemaid might, playfully up to her bed. Drapings of satin are absent; the mattress is quite unembroidered. Large is this room where the bed offers its comfort for two. Jupiter's welcome to more from his Juno if he can get it; Let any mortal find rest, softer, wherever he can. We are content with Cupid's delights, authentic and naked— And with the exquisite creak /crack of the bed as it rocks. ”

“ And we do more than just kiss; we prosecute reasoned discussions (Should she succumb to sleep, that gives me time for my thoughts) . In her embrace—it's by no means unusual—I've composed poems And the hexameter's beat gently tapped out on her back, Fingertips counting in time with the sweet rhythmic breath of her slumber. Air from deep in her breast penetrates mine and there burns. Cupid, while stirring the flame in our lamp, no doubt thinks of those days when For the triumvirs he similar service performed. ”

“ Who would today dare attempt to escape from fidelity's ennui? Love does not hold one back—only concern for one's health. Even the woman we love may afford us uncertain enjoyment; Nowhere can feminine lap safely encouch a man's head. Matrimonial bed's insecure and so's fornication; Husband, lover and wife pass to each other the hurt. Think of those ages of gold when Jupiter followed his urges, Chose Callisto one day, turned to Semel the next. ”

“ Did you command her a hero to seek and deliver before you? May be she erred. Then forgive. Let her mistake profit me! Does not Fortuna, your daughter, when strewing her glorious presents, After the manner of girls, yield to each passing whim? You, O hospitable god, will by no means now banish a stranger From your Olympian heights back to the base earth again. "Poet, come to your senses!"—Forgive me, Jupiter, is not Rome's Capitoline Hill second Olympus to you? Suffer me, Jupiter, here and let Hermes guide me at last then Past Cestius' Tomb gently to Orkus below. ”

“ I prefer to go slow, savoring pleasures secure. Is it not bliss to exchange tender kisses containing no dangers, Sucking into our lungs, carefree, our partner's own life? That is the way our long nights of enjoyment are passed. We listen, Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching Blossoms that will adorn festive the coming new day. Quirites, permit me the joy, and may this, of all pleasures on earth the First and the last, be vouchsafed all of mankind by the god. ”

“ But it's a horror to fear on the pathways of love you'll discover Snakes and their venom beneath roses of eager desire— That at the moment supreme, when I'm yielding to pleasure so fully, Right at my head as it droops, hissing disease may approach. That's why Faustina as my companion in bed makes me happy: Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her. Young men are aroused in their passions by obstacles and by excitement ”

“ XXIII However comely be strength, or free and undaunted comportment, Secrecy is for a man most important of all. Mighty subduer of cities, Discretion, O princess of nations, Goddess whom I adore, safely you've led me thus far. Now, though, what fate shall befall me? My frivolous muse has now opened —Cupid, the scamp—opens lips hitherto sealed so well. Difficult is it, alas, to conceal the shame of a monarch ”

“ Arrows of Cupid work divers effects. Some do but scratch us: Slow and insidious these poison our hearts over years. Yet with a head freshly honed and cunningly fledged, certain others Pierce to the marrow, inflame rapidly there our blood. When gods and goddesses in days of heroes made love, then Lust followed look and desire, with no delay, was indulged. Surely you don't think the goddess of love lost a moment reflecting When, in Idean grove, Anchises caught her eye. ”

“ If weakened with shame and bad conscience One of those criminals comes, squinting out over my garden, Bridling at nature's pure fruit, punish the knave in his hindparts, Using the stake which so red rises there at your loins. ”

“ Does one not lift a Gown of the finest brocade just as one lifts common wool? If she's to press in comfort a lover against that soft bosom, Doesn't he want her to be free from all brooches and chains? ”

“ One can do that if one's young, or if one's lonely enough. I to hexameters tell, in pentameters I will confide it: During the day she was joy, happiness all the night long. Courted by so many suitors, avoided the snares that were set her Now by one bolder than I, now by another in guile, Cleverly, daintily, always slipped past them, and sure of the byways, Comes to her lover's embrace, where he so eagerly waits. Luna! Don't rise yet. She's coming, and must not be seen by the neighbor! ”

“ Genius, art thou alive? Yes, here within thy sanctified walls there's a soul in each object, ROMA eternal. For me, only, are all things yet mute. Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love? ”

“ As for a style truly grand, love can alone give you that." All of these claims that sophist asserted. Could I contradict him? I am wont to obey, when my commander decrees. Treacherous now he is keeping his word: giving me themes for my poems While he is stealing my time, potency, presence of mind. Gazing into her eyes, holding hands, giving kisses, exchanging Syllables sweet and those words lovers alone understand, Murmuring our conversations we stutter in sweet oratory. Hymns of such sort pass away, wanting prosodical tact. Goddess of morning, Aurora, as friend of my muse I once knew you. ”

“ The school of the Ancients Yet remains open. Its gates, years have not closed them to you. I am eternally young, and as teacher I still love the young ones. Wisdom that comes with old age pleases me not. ”

“ Silence exactly befits rites at which we're adepts. Rather onto our heels by horrible deeds the Erinyes We would allure, even Zeus' punishment sooner we'd dare— Under that rock, or bound to a tumbling wheel we'd endure it— Than we'd withdraw our hearts from the delights of her cult. Sweet Opportunity, that is her name. You should meet her. Often will she turn up, ever in a new form. Daughter of Proteus might well she be whom he sired upon Thetis. In metamorphoses they've many a hero deceived. ”

“ Alexander, Caesar and Henry and Fredrick, Gladly would share with me half of their hard fought renown, Could I but grant them my bed for one single night, and its comfort, But the poor wretches are held stark in cold Orkian grip. Therefore, ye living, rejoice that love keeps you warm for a while yet, Until cold Lethe anoints, captures your foot in its flight. ”

“ Fire-breathing, venomous once, they no longer now depredate our Flocks and meadows and woods, fields of golden grain. How is it then that some spiteful god in his wrath has Raised from the poisonous slime offspring so monstrous again? ”

“ Jupiter's welcome to more from his Juno if he can get it; ”

“ Faggots are heaped all about me against the cold of the winter, Which I so hate for the crows settling then down on my head, Which they befoul very shamefully. Summer's no better: the servants Empty their bowels and show insolent, naked behinds. ”

“ Lo, I have followed you hither to Rome, and I'd like to do something Here in this far away land pleasing to such an old friend. Every traveller I've ever known has complained of poor treatment: He whom I recommend treatment delicious receives. ”

“ Into the earth for safekeeping the servant must bury the story, Easing in this way the king: earth must conceal the tale. Reeds in a trice are sprouting and rustling in murmuring breezes: "Midas, o Midas the King—bears the ears of an ass!" ”

“ Thinking about his embrace and its pleasures, she seems to be asking Shouldn't our glorious son here at our side stand erect?
XIV Can't you hear voices, beloved, out on the Via Flamina? Reapers are now going home, back from harvesting grain. They had journeyed to Rome from afar, and here plaited for Ceres Wreaths which the Romans today scorn to make for themselves. Festivals no longer celebrate Ceres, the nourishing goddess Who replaced acorns of old, giving man golden wheat. Let us commemorate her then ourselves in festival private (Two constitute a whole tribe, when they are two in love) . ”

“ X When you were small, you say, neither did others consider you f air, nor Even your mother find praise—and I believe it— Till you grew bigger, developing quietly over the years. I Picture you to myself as an unusual child. Also the blossoms on grapevines are wanting in shape and in color, Although the fruit when it's ripe pleases both mankind and gods. ”

“ Heeding ancient advice, I leaf through the works of the Ancients With an assiduous hand. ”

“ Surely the gestures of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning— Impatient acolytes wait, anxiously hoping for light. ”

“ This thoughtful and responsible man initiated the journal with an essay of his own, explaining how forms of entertainment are actually at the same time our primary modes of education. It makes for pretty difficult reading in our present, less interested epoch. ”

“ IV Ask whomever you will but you'll never find out where I'm lodging, High society's lords, ladies so groomed and refined. ”