- I’d rather look at things than speak about them.
- Clothes just undone—not that there were many,
for an exquisite July was blazing.
- An echo of the days of pleasure,
an echo of the days drew near me.
- I went into the luminous night,
to those pleasures that were half real,
and half-wheeling in my brain.
- And I think that the choicest life
is the life that cannot be lived.
- But at least we’ve gained this much: we’ve rid ourselves
of hope and expectation.
- But evening has fallen, unfortunately. Look, I even drank all the wine.