It comes down to this: we're pieces of equipmentTo be counted and signed for. On occasion some of us break down,And those parts which can't be salvagedAre replaced with other GI parts, that's all. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Não estatize meus sentimentos. Pra seu governo, o meu estado é independente. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Painted desert, ocean of colorsun's worshiper, moon's loverpicture of a coyote's voicesandbox of angels, another toy. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Receio que a poesia é pior que o sexo tântrico: não mexe nem sai de cima.I'm afraid that poetry is worse than tantric sex: it does not not move or get off. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Le vin est la gaieté, dit-on ; comment cet océan de vin qui submerge la commune de Bercy n’égaye-t-il pas un peu ces navrants paysages ? Tout Bacchus est là ; Bacchus, chanté avec tant de constance par nos poètes ébriolants. Bacchus ne peut-il rasséréner ces horizons en deuil ? ou faut-il croire que Bacchus lui-même, ennemi de l’eau, est incommodé par le voisinage de la rivière ? Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Take you example by this thing,/ And yield to each his right,/ Lest God with such like miserye/ Your wicked minds requite Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
I hate the day, because it lendeth lightTo see all things, but not my love to see. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Think of your woods and orchards without birds!Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beamsAs in an idiot's brain remembered wordsHang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams! Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Calligraphy may well be simply an artistic version of another form, that is the ideograms which make up the poem, but then not only does it reflect the character and temperament of the artist but . . . also betrays his heart rate, his breathing. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>