|T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 192122.|
|From The Songs of Bilitis|
|By Pierre Louÿs (18701925)|
(1894. Translated from the French by Horace Manchester Brown. 1904)
SHE has gone out, she is far from me, but I see her, for all things in the room, all pertain to her, and I, like all the rest.
| This bed still warm, over which I let my lips wander, is disordered with the imprint of her form. Upon this soft cushion has lain her little head enveloped in its wealth of hair.|| 2|
| This basin is that in which she hath bathed; this comb has penetrated the knots of her tangled locks. These slippers beg for her naked feet. These pockets of gauze contained her breasts.|| 3|
| But what I dare not touch, is the mirror in which she gazed upon her hot bruises, and where perhaps remains still the reflection of her moist lips.|| 4|