A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.

From such a gentle thing, from such a fountain of all delight, my every pain is born.

Serene I fold my hands and wait.

I feast on wine and bread, and feasts they are.

Even if you are divine, you don't disdain male consorts.

I couldn't give you something mediocre even if that's all you asked for.

The promises of this world are, for the most part, vain phantoms; and to confide in one's self, and become something of worth and value is the best and safest course.