POETRY

“Sir, please do not tell me that, when you go away, love denied me crying because seeing me already extinguished the fire, the water had no place to temper it somewhat; indeed say that was pretty much at that point the ardor that made dry mood; and I could not show my worth with the bitter tears, so that my …

It was August 20, 1799, and she was 47 years old, but she was not in that square in Naples to go to market. Defonseca Eleonora Pimentel was led to the gallows for hanging, that accorded to other seven men who – like her – they believed in the concepts of liberty, equality and fraternity. That woman brave and intelligent, …

“I would be maybe longer alone Without my loneliness. I’m used to my fate. Maybe the other – peace could break the darkness and fill the room-too narrow to contain his sacrament. Hope I did not friend – like an intruder could desecrate this place of pain – with its sweet court. It might be easier to sink – in …

On 30 August 1797, a priest was deeply convinced that the death of a woman named Mary – died in childbirth – it was attributable to a divine punishment. She was born in London on a spring day, the April 27, 1759, at the age of 28 years, he had published a book, Reflections on the education of daughters, that …

Dying of cancer in Los Angeles at the age of 73 years. Born in Neuilly-sur-Seine, to parents of Cuban origin. These are the parentheses that enclose the extraordinary life of a fascinating woman, a writer who at the age of 26 years, she living into the Paris of Antonin Artaud, DH Lawrence, Henry Miller, June Mansfield and Otto Rank. It …

ELISABETH SIDDAL-ROSSETTI 1829/1862 > From 1862, for the desire of the husband, the only copy of his poems of love was in the tomb of Elisbeth, a woman who was a model and artist, wife and poet. He was an Italian named Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but seven years later – for economic reasons – he obtained permission to open the …

À MADAME X:  EN LUI ENVOYANT UNE PENSÉE Au temps où vous m’aimiez (bien sûr ?), Vous m’envoyâtes, fraîche éclose, Une chère petite rose, Frais emblème, message pur.   Elle disait en son langage Les « serments du premier amour » : Votre cœur à moi pour toujours Et toutes les choses d’usage.   Trois ans sont passés. Nous voilà …

I BELIEVE, THROUGH A WHISPERING This is languorous ecstasy, This is the love fatigue, This is all the thrills of wood Among the embrace breezes, This is, to the gray branches, The chorus of little voices. O frail and fresh murmur! This twitters and whispers, It looks like the soft cry The rough grass expires … You say under water …

TRIUMPH OF BACCHUS AND ARIADNE   How beautiful is youth, who flees though! Who wants to be happy, either : tomorrow there is no certainty . This is Bacchus and Ariadne is this , beautiful , and the other is one of the burning : because time is running out and deceives , together they are always happy. These nymphs …

LOVE   What I have in my heart, burning like our age, I dare you speak, how to define it? Is it a burning mirror hit your picture? A thrilling portrait born of your memory?   See! I think it’s you, even in your absence, In sleep; eh what! can you still watch? This overwhelming happiness that gives your presence, …