Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Goethe - Erotica Romana
?
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Erotica Romana, by Johann Wolfgang Goethe
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. org
Title: Erotica Romana
Author: Johann Wolfgang Goethe
Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7889]
Posting Date: August 4, 2009
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA ***
Produced by Harry Haile and Mike Pullen
EROTICA ROMANA
By Johann Wolfgang Goethe
I
Here's where I've planted my garden and here I shall care for love's blossoms--
As I am taught by my muse, carefully sort them in plots:
Fertile branches, whose product is golden fruit of my lifetime,
Set here in happier years, tended with pleasure today.
You, stand here at my side, good Priapus--albeit from thieves I've
Nothing to fear. Freely pluck, whosoever would eat.
--Hypocrites, those are the ones! If weakened with shame and bad conscience
One of those criminals comes, squinting out over my garden,
Bridling at nature's pure fruit, punish the knave in his hindparts,
Using the stake which so red rises there at your loins.
II
Tell me ye stones and give me O glorious palaces answer.
Speak O ye streets but one word. Genius, art thou alive?
Yes, here within thy sanctified walls there's a soul in each object,
ROMA eternal. For me, only, are all things yet mute.
Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Can't I divine yet the paths through which over and over
To her and from her I'll go, squandering valuable time?
Visiting churches and palaces, all of the ruins and the pillars,
I, a responsible man, profit from making this trip.
With my business accomplished, ah, then shall only one temple,
AMOR's temple alone, take the initiate in.
Rome, thou art a whole world, it is true, and yet without love this
World would not be the world, Rome would cease to be Rome.
III
More than ever I dreamed, I have found it: my happy good fortune!
Cupid sagaciously led past those palazzos so fine.
He of course knows very well (and I have also discovered)
What, beneath tapestries rich, gilded boudoirs conceal.
One may if one wishes call him a blind, wanton boy--but I know you,
Clever Cupid, too well! O, incorruptible god!
We were by no means inveigled to enter facades so majestic;
Somber cortile we passed, balcony high and gallant,
Hastening onward until an humble but exquisite portal
Offered a refuge to both, ardent seeker and guide.
Here he provides me with ev'rything, sees that I get what I call for;
Each day that passes he spreads freshly plucked roses for me.
--Isn't that heaven on earth? Say, beautiful Lady Borghese,
What would you give to me more? --You, Nipotina, what yours?
Banquets and game tables, operas, balls, promenades down the Corso?
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. org
Title: Erotica Romana
Author: Johann Wolfgang Goethe
Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7889]
Posting Date: August 4, 2009
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA ***
Produced by Harry Haile and Mike Pullen
EROTICA ROMANA
By Johann Wolfgang Goethe
I
Here's where I've planted my garden and here I shall care for love's blossoms--
As I am taught by my muse, carefully sort them in plots:
Fertile branches, whose product is golden fruit of my lifetime,
Set here in happier years, tended with pleasure today.
You, stand here at my side, good Priapus--albeit from thieves I've
Nothing to fear. Freely pluck, whosoever would eat.
--Hypocrites, those are the ones! If weakened with shame and bad conscience
One of those criminals comes, squinting out over my garden,
Bridling at nature's pure fruit, punish the knave in his hindparts,
Using the stake which so red rises there at your loins.
II
Tell me ye stones and give me O glorious palaces answer.
Speak O ye streets but one word. Genius, art thou alive?
Yes, here within thy sanctified walls there's a soul in each object,
ROMA eternal. For me, only, are all things yet mute.
Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window
Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love?
Can't I divine yet the paths through which over and over
To her and from her I'll go, squandering valuable time?
Visiting churches and palaces, all of the ruins and the pillars,
I, a responsible man, profit from making this trip.
With my business accomplished, ah, then shall only one temple,
AMOR's temple alone, take the initiate in.
Rome, thou art a whole world, it is true, and yet without love this
World would not be the world, Rome would cease to be Rome.
III
More than ever I dreamed, I have found it: my happy good fortune!
Cupid sagaciously led past those palazzos so fine.
He of course knows very well (and I have also discovered)
What, beneath tapestries rich, gilded boudoirs conceal.
One may if one wishes call him a blind, wanton boy--but I know you,
Clever Cupid, too well! O, incorruptible god!
We were by no means inveigled to enter facades so majestic;
Somber cortile we passed, balcony high and gallant,
Hastening onward until an humble but exquisite portal
Offered a refuge to both, ardent seeker and guide.
Here he provides me with ev'rything, sees that I get what I call for;
Each day that passes he spreads freshly plucked roses for me.
--Isn't that heaven on earth? Say, beautiful Lady Borghese,
What would you give to me more? --You, Nipotina, what yours?
Banquets and game tables, operas, balls, promenades down the Corso?
