Literature

While I don't see you, I don't shed a tear
I never lose my senses when you're near,
But, with ou...
- Adam Mickiewicz
 Art -  Literature - Andre Breton - Self portrait
Andre Breton - Self portrait
Posted:
August 6th 2012
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Contributed by user for educational purposes only. User is not author.
Mirrors are not more silent
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that p...
- Jorge Luis Borges
My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far beyond the road I have begun,
So we are grasped by...
- Rainer Maria Rilke
The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter on
and the horse looks at him in silence.
...
- D. H. Lawrence
Slow in the dawn, a young man, hollow-eyed
from lengthy thought and unrewarding vigils,
is lost in...
- Jorge Luis Borges
I like that you are crazy not with me,
I like that I’m not with you crazy, either,
That ne’er ...
- Marina Tsvetaeva
Maybe because you always have appeared
The image of that fatal rest to me,
O night! You come tow...
- Ugo Fuscolo
We are a liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
...
- D. H. Lawrence
Out of the mid-wood's twilight
Into the meadow's dawn,
Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
Flashes my Fa...
- Oscar Wilde
That mirror
Which makes of men a transparency,
Who holds that mirror
And bids us such a breast...
- Thomas Hardy
Press my breasts,
Part the veil of mystery,
A flower blooms there,
Crimson and fragrant....
- Akiko Yosano
Winds of May, that dance on the sea,
Dancing a ring-around in glee
From furrow to furrow, while ...
- James Joyce
That pretty girl--
munching and rustling
the wrapped-up rice cake....
- Kobayashi Issa
Below Mirabeau Bridge flows River Seine
Just like our loves.
Must one recall it to my mind that ...
- Guillaume Apollinaire
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the ...
- William Shakespeare
My Pillow gazes upon me at night
Empty as a gravestone;
I never thought it would be so bitter
To ...
- Hermann Hesse
Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, ...
- William Shakespeare