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swift brushes like fingers on strings playing a storm of sighs and cries while bare bodies wave attuned like smiling face to smiling face and rills of rapture run as springs
But when two mortals are one in heart, Not iron bolts keep them apart; The words in their union they use, Fragrance like orchids will diffuse. Ta Chuan, VIII.6 «I do not exist», the dream girl says, dim, dark & lovely. «Not yet. And what if you will not...
* Mich sollten billig gute Frauen, Verständge, desto lieber schauen, Wenn noch ein Weib mir freundlich lacht, Weil ich dies Werk zum Schluss gebracht. Geschah das einer Frau zu Ehren, Die soll mir süßen Dank gewähren. ** Enveiez i, si liert bel. Si il...
Sir Edward Burne-Jones, Merlin and Nimue (1861) Victoria and Albert Museum (England) Copyright © 2000–2007 The Athenaeum. Once upon a time, the wise Merlin set forth happiness with words he had often said to his beloved Nimue: «To kiss longingly and lingeringly...
Questa sezione è composta di passi tratti da Goodrich e Seppilli. Citazioni. Goodrich, Tavola Rotonda, pp. 176, 189, 158, 192, 156. Goodrich, Ginevra, pp. 265, 262, 265, 262, 167. Omero, Odissea, IV, 220-226. Omero, Iliade, III, 156-158. Eschilo, Agammenone,...
… beautiful pale fingers brushing the harp, writing and talking together, eyes towards the ocean around Penmarch remembering Drystan and Essylt, dreaming awake, sitting into the wind before the roaring waves at the Pointe du Raz, aware illusion, going...
Dopo avere indirizzato Anguselus alla fonte—dopo averlo aiutato a superare il Ponte della Spada—dopo avergli ordinato di uccidere Meleagant, figlio del sacerdote pagano Bademagus—e poiché Anguselus è un neofita, «un’offerta sacrificale» come lo è lei...
Soar, as a bird soars Newly fledged, her visibile song, a marvel, Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion, Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders, Clothed with the wind’s wings. Algernon Charles Swinburne, Sapphics accarezza l’arpa con le pallide...
… fallen leaves like scraps of written words in the breeze, whilst nether gates yawn within deep dark Trivia’s groves, hard by clear cold springs flowing out from mossy rifts as riddles uttered by voices mortal no more, and silver shapes seen in mirrors...
… whilst her eye’s dark shades and her lips and her swollen berries and the flaws which marks her pale perfection are kissed gently her lingering panting is music and the waves of her rapture are crashing and frothing on the shores of his hands and their...