Fernand Gregh was a French poet and literary critic
YOUR loved mouth has the sharp and acid smell
Of fruits unripened, although golden-faced.
...
O COURTESANS, Love's witching, wild priestesses,
You charm the universe from end to end!
Heroes are always fettered by your tresses,
...
DESIRE rules over men, those half-gods vain,
And is the tyrant of their heart and brain.
He fashions women amorous or chaste,
And when he abdicates, his subjects waste!
...
I HAVE grieved too much erewhile for fleeting pain,
And now my griefs I may not recognize.
'Tis well they spake to me in furtive sighs,
And called to me with their light voices fain;
...
WHAT have we done, my poor, pale dear, alas!
What was this frantic whirlwind of desire
That took our souls in kisses, sobs, and fire,
...