You seek life, and a godly fire Gushes and gleams for you out of the earth, As, with shuddering long, you Hurl yourself down to the flames of the Etna. So by a queen's wanton whim Peals were dissolved in wine- heed her not! What folly, poet, to cast your riches Into that bright and bubbling cup! Yet still are you holy to me, as the might of the earth That bore you away, audaciously perishing! And I would follow the hero into the depths Did love not hold me.

The earth with yellow pears And overgrown with roses wild Upon the pond is bent, And swans divine, With kisses drunk You drop your heads In the sublimely sober…

We were eager to have done and trusted to luck.

Now we were standing close to the summit's rim, gazing out into the endless East.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame.

'If loving you's a crime, So go on and find me guilty, Just one more fucking time' - From 'One more fucking time'

It is best to love wisely, no doubt; but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.