To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.

What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.

To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?

I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.

I can imagine no greater misfortune for a cultured people than to see in the hands of the rulers not only the civil, but also the religious power.

I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.