Go Then, A Starveling Girl With No

Within The Bottle's Depths, The Wine's Soul Sang One Night. Drink Wine, Drink Poetry, Drink Virtue.

The More Delicate And Ambitious The Soul, The Further Do Dreams Estrange It From Possible Things.

Whether You Come From Heaven Or Hell, What Does It Matter, O Beauty!

We Are Weighed Down, Every Moment, By The Conception And The Sensation Of Time. And There Are But Two Means Of Escaping And Forgetting This Nightmare: Pleasure And Work. Pleasure Consumes Us. Work Strengthens Us. Let Us Choose.

Go Then, A Starveling Girl With No Perfume Or Pearls, Only Your Nudity O My Beauty!