Warren Falcon :
Love, let us live without
the sun go up the sun go
the Sky-(Amor) -Wheel-(Fati)
turn and return
Let the painter lonely be
pinned to shore with
his paints, his brushes,
his thumb-gauged vision
in relation to ourselves,
and Void, without intended
rhyme trued, true to ourselves.
Nature, too, is true.
May he use the color blue.
Tubes of it.
We once were that, too -
Vaulted. Now become
in the making
is made at all)
but is aporetic
a sky of
we are then a
churned by storm
Here come the wild birds again
[from 'Here Come The Wild Birds Again - Poem For Painters & Poets']
Fabrizio Frosini :
«Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis
vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent:
Σίβυλλα τί θέλεις; respondebat illa: ἀποθανεῖν θέλω.»
- It is quoted by T.S. Eliot in 'The Waste Land' (1922) -
- - The quote refers to the mythic Cumaean Sibyl who bargained with Apollo, offering her virginity for years of life totaling as many grains of sand as she could hold in her hand. But, after spurning his love, he allowed her to wither away over the span of her near-immortality, as she forgot to ask for eternal youth.
- The Satyricon tells of the misadventures of a former gladiator through the Roman Empire in the first century A.D. Only fragments of the story still exist. The scene Eliot quotes occurs during a feast at the villa of a wealthy buffoon named Trimalchio.
- Sibyl of Cumae was a prophetess in service to Apollo and a great beauty. Apollo wished to take her as his lover and offered her anything she desired. She asked to live for as many years as there were grains in a handful of dust. Apollo granted her wish, but still she refused to become his lover. In time, Sibyl came to regret her boon as she grew old but did not die. She lived for hundreds of years, each year becoming smaller and frailer, Apollo having given her long life but not eternal youth.
- When Trimalchio speaks of her in the Satyricon, she is little more than a tourist attraction, tiny, ancient, confined, and longing to die.
- - Secondo la leggenda, Apollo le aveva promesso di esaudire qualunque suo desiderio in cambio del suo amore; ella gli chiese di poter vivere altrettanti anni quanti erano i granelli di sabbia che poteva tenere nella sua mano. Trascurò, tuttavia, di domandare al dio anche l'eterna giovinezza, che Apollo le offrì in cambio della sua verginità. In seguito al rifiuto la Sibilla Cumana iniziò ad invecchiare e a rinsecchire fino ad assomigliare ad una cicala e a essere appesa in una gabbia del tempio di Apollo, a Cuma. In queste condizioni la Sibilla aveva un solo desiderio: la morte..
[Gaius Petronius Arbiter (c.27 - 66 AD) , 'Satyricon', XLVIII.]
Walt Whitman :
That the winds are really not infectious,
That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which
is so amorous after me,
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its
That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited
themselves in it,
That all is clean forever and forever,
[Walt Whitman (1819-1892), U.S. poet. This Compost (l. 31-36). . .
The Complete Poems [Walt Whitman]. Francis Murphy, ed. (1975; repr. 1986) Penguin Books.]
William Blake :
The moment of desire! the moment of desire! The virgin
That pines for man shall awaken her womb to enormous joys
In the secret shadows of her chamber: the youth shut up from
The lustful joy shall forget to generate & create an amorous image
In the shadows of his curtains and in the folds of his silent pillow.
Are not these the places of religion, the rewards of continence,
The self-enjoyings of self-denial? why dost thou seek religion?
Is it because acts are not lovely that thou seekest solitude
Where the horrible darkness is impressed with reflections of desire?
[William Blake (1757-1827), British poet, painter, engraver. repr. In Complete Writings, ed. Geoffrey Keynes (1957). Oothoon, in Visions of the Daughters of Albion, plate 7 (1793).]
John Milton :
She, as a veil down to the slender waist,
Her unadorned golden tresses wore
Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved
As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied
Subjection, but required with gentle sway,
And by her yielded, by him best received,
Yielded with coy submission, modest pride,
And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
Nor those mysterious parts were then concealed:
Then was not guilty shame: dishonest Shame
Of Nature's works, Honour dishonourable.
[John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. IV, l. 304-314).
OBS. The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.]
Andrew Marvell :
Society is all but rude,
To this delicious solitude.
No white nor red was ever seen
So amorous as this lovely green.
Fond lovers, cruel as their flame,
Cut in these trees their mistress' name:
Little, alas, they know or heed
How far these beauties hers exceed!
Fair trees, wheresoe'er your barks I wound,
No name shall but your own be found.
[Andrew Marvell (1621-1678), British poet. The Garden (l. 15-23). . .
The Complete Poems [Andrew Marvell]. Elizabeth Story Donno, ed. (1972, repr. 1985) Penguin.]
William Shakespeare :
The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne
Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.
[William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 2, sc. 2, l. 198-204 (1623).
Describing Cleopatra's arrival at her first meeting with Antony. As for its occupant, "For her own person,/It beggared all description." T.S. Eliot wrote a pastiche of this passage in The Waste Land, "A Game of Chess."]
John Milton :
But he her fears to cease
Sent down the meek-eyed Peace;
She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphere,
His ready harbinger,
With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing,
And waving wide her myrtle wand,
She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
[John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity (l. 17-24). . .
The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.]
John Donne :
Not thou nor thy religion dost controule,
The amorousnesse of an harmonious Soule,
But thou would'st have that love thy selfe: As thou
Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now,
Thou lov'st not, till from loving more, thou free
My soule: Who ever gives, takes libertie:
O, if thou car'st not whom I love
Alas, thou lov'st not mee.
[John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. A Hymn to Christ, at the Author's Last Going into Germany (l. 17-24). . .
The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.]
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William Butler Yeats :
May not lie on the breast nor his lips on the hair
Of the woman that he loves, until he dies.
O beast of the wilderness, bird of the air,
Must I endure your amorous cries?
[William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "He Thinks of his Past Greatness When a Part of the Constellations of Heaven."]