Cane and eroticism |
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By way of postfacethe poets have the floorBy way of postface, the poets have the floor, a certain François Villon, a French poet who lived from 1431 to 1463 and Gabriele d'Annunzio, an Italian poet, who lived from 1863 to 1938. Tell me now in what hidden is Lady Flora the lovely Roman? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere,-- She whose beauty was more than human?... But where are the snows of yester-year? Where's Heloise, the learned nun, For whose sake Abeillard, I ween, Lost manhood and put priesthood on? (From Love he won such dule and teen!) And where, I pray you, is the Queen Who willed that Buridan should steer Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine?... But where are the snows of yester-year? White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies, With a voice like any mermaiden,-- Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice, And Ermengarde the lady of Maine,-- And that good Joan whom Englishmen At Rouen doomed and burned her there,-- Mother of God, where are they then?... But where are the snows of yester-year? François Villon Excerpt from the "Testament", the Ballad of gone ladies Source for the English translated version, Dante Gabriel Rossetti - a Victorian painter and writer, 1828-1882-. «Think about it now, pretty glover girl You have been a novice until now; And you, Blanche, the cobbler girl, The time has come for knowing yourself. Grab to your right and at your left; Do not spare one man, I beg you, For old women have no value nor status, No more than do devalued coins. «And you, the noble sausage girl, Who are a so agile dancer, Guillemette, the tapestry girl, Don’t despise your master: Soon you will have to shut up shop. When you will become old, withered, You will have no more use than an old priest, No more than do devalued coins. «Jeanneton, the bonnet girl, Beware that your friend does not deprive you; And Katherine, the purse girl, Don’t send men away; For the unattractive one should not provoke Their bad grace, but smile to them. Ugly old age does not arouse love, No more than do devalued coins.. François Villon Excerpt from the "Testament", the Ballad of the "Belle Haulmière" to loose women And so says the "Belle Haulmière", the helmet maker, now procuress: Source for the excerpt translated into English: (c)Jeay and Garay [mw.mcmaster.ca] Magnificent bosoms, the point so strongly raised, on which I let my head rest at the first light of the day, in the supreme exhaustion of the pleasure, I become numb and I die; Voluptuous undulations, feline curves, up valley that my fingers linger over in ryth, as of the nerves of the lyre's crescent; Teeth under the bite of which I easily submit, mouth more sanguine than a wound, it's sweet to me to wilt for you. "Bei seni da la punta erta fiorenti, su cui mi cade a l'alba il capo stanco allor che ne' supremi abbattimenti de 'l piacere io m'irrigidisco e manco; reni feline pe' cui solchi ascendo lascivamente in ritmo con le dita come su nervi di falcate lire; denti sotto a' cui morsi acri mi arrendo, bocche sanguigne piú di una ferita, pur m'é dolce per voi cosí sfiorire." Gabriele d'Annunzio Excerpt from "Love verses", Spring Sonnets Source of the excerpt translated into French: Carlo Ferrero in "Les Cinq Sens d'Eros". Source of the excerpt in Italian: the Italian website LibroMania Translated into English, 2007 iSkiv Ltd. |
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