“What time for language, when our kisses flow
Eloquent, warm, as words are cold and weak? —
Or now — Ah! sweetheart, even were it so
We could not speak!” [via]
“You say another’s sensuous lips
Shall open to my kisses there:
When weary, steal those luscious sips;
Another’s hands play in my hair
And find delight for me to bare
The bosom, and the passionate mound
White and, for Venus’ temple, round,
A garden of wild thyme whose eye
My sword shall piece, and never wound:
For we must part, and love must die.” [via]
“Fond limbs with mine were intertwined,
A hand lascivious fondled me;
My ears grew deaf, my eyes grew blind,
My tongue was hot from kisses free,
Short madness, and we lazily
Lolled back upon the bed of fire.
I was a-weary — her desire
Drew her upon me — Marion, fie!
You work our pleasure till I tire:
But we must part, and love must die.” [via]
“I have an idol wrought of stainless gold
Before whose feet I bow, in whose delight
I am content to live, whose spells of might
Are smiles that gleam, are tears that glisten cold
On the fair cheek that blushes if I praise;
Are warm ripe kisses in the softer hours
When love is perfect blossom of sweet flowers,
Are shadowed glances of pure love light rays
From clear blue eyes, are wonderful caresses
When love is golden autumn of sweet fruit.
What other worship can usurp my days
When I may lie amid her sunny tresses
Enraptured by the music of her lute
One long calm love, one heart’s delight always?” [via]
“Burn Thou strange herbs, O God!
Brew me a magic liquor, boys, with your glances!
The very soul is drunken.
Thou art drunken, O my God, upon my kisses.
The Universe reels; Thou hast looked upon it.
Twice, and all is done.
Come, O my God, and let us embrace!
Lazily, hungrily, ardently, patiently; so will I work.
There shall be an End.”
— Liber Liberi vel Lapidus Lazuli
”Time to get drunk!
Don’t be martyred slaves of Time,
On wine, virtue, poetry, as you will!”