LAY DOWN your lute, my love, leave your arms free to embrace me. Let your touch bring my overflowing heart to my body's utmost brink. Do not bend your neck and turn away your face, but offer up a kiss to me, which has been like some perfume long closed in a bud. Do not smother this moment under vain words, but let our hearts quake in a rush of silence sweeping all thoughts to the shoreless delight.
SAY OF HIM what you please, but I know my child's failings. I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child. How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults? When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being. When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him. I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves.