Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Erotica Romana by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (bill gates book recommendations txt) 📖
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old in chorus cried out against those two serpents, Making them horrible names, hated in all of the world: Python the one, the other the Hydra of Lerna. These monsters Both have now been destroyed, thanks to the deeds of the gods. Fire-breathing, venomous once, they no longer now depredate our Flocks and meadows and woods, fields of golden grain. How is it then that some spiteful god in his wrath has Raised from the poisonous slime offspring so monstrous again? There's an insidious viper creeps into the loveliest gardens, Lying in wait to attack all who seek pleasure therein. Noble Hesperian dragon, I call you courageous and forthright. Boldly defending your own beautiful apples of gold. As for this worm, why he is not guarding at all, for his presence Sullies both garden and fruit, till they deserve no defense. Secretly coiled beneath bushes, where he befouls the sweet wellsprings, Turning to poisonous drool Cupid's lifegiving dew. Happy Lucretius knew how in his day to forego love completely, Fearing not to enjoy pleasure in anyone's arms. Fortunate Ancient, Propertius, for you a slave fetched the girls down From the Aventine Hill, from Tarpeia's grove. Cynthia then, when driving you out of such unchaste embraces, Found you unfaithful, it's true, but she did find you whole. Who would today dare attempt to escape from fidelity's ennui? Love does not hold one back—only concern for one's health. Even the woman we love may afford us uncertain enjoyment; Nowhere can feminine lap safely encouch a man's head. Matrimonial bed's insecure and so's fornication; Husband, lover and wife pass to each other the hurt. Think of those ages of gold when Jupiter followed his urges, Chose Callisto one day, turned to Semel the next. It was important to him to find thresholds of temples so sacred Pure when, enamoured, he sought powerful entry to them. Can you imagine the ragings of Juno if in love's skirmish Poisonous weapons on her by her own spouse had been turned? But we neo-pagans may not after all be abandoned entirely: Yet there is speeding a god mercifully over the earth, Quick and assiduous. Everyone knows him and ought to adore him, Herald of Zeus: Hermes, the healing god. Although his father's temple be fallen, and though of its pillars Scarcely a pair yet records ancient glory adored, Nevertheless the son's place of worship still stands, and forever Will there the ardent requests alternate with the thanks. Only one favor I beg of you, Graces (I ask it in secret— Fervent my prayer and deep, out of a passionate breast): My little garden, my sweet one, protect it and do not let any Evil come near it nor me. Cupid will hold out his hand: O, and entrusting myself to the rascal, I beg you please may I Do so in pleasure with no danger or worry or fear.
XVIII I cannot think I'd have gone with Julius Caesar to Britain; To the Popina right here, Florus would tug me with ease. Fogs of the dreary north remain a more baleful remembrance Than in the kitchens of Rome tribes of assiduous fleas. After today, I'll remember you even more kindly, tavernas, You osterias, as you are called, aptly by those here in Rome. That was the place I encountered my mistress today with the uncle Whom she so often deceives, so that she can have me. Here's where I sat at a table surrounded by good-natured Germans; Over on that side the girl, finding a seat for herself Next to her mother where, frequently shifting her bench, she arranged Nicely for me to perceive profile and curve of her neck; Speaks just a little more loudly than women in Rome are accustomed; Significant glance as she pours—misses the glass with the wine So that it spills on the table, and she with a delicate finger Over its surface can draw circles in damp arabesque: Her name entwining in mine, while my eyes most eagerly follow All that her fingertip writes. She is of course well aware That I am watching, so finally makes the V of the Roman Five, with a virgule before. Quickly, as soon as I've seen, She interlaces the circles, reducing them all to ornatest Patterns—but still the sweet IV stood as engraved in my eye. I sat there mutely and biting my passionate lips almost bloody Half from delight at the ruse, partly from stifled desire: Such a long time until dark, then another four hours of waiting. —Sun, who tarries on high, contemplating Rome: Greater never you've nor shall you in future see greater Than Rome, O sun, as your priest, Horace, enraptured foretold. Tarry no longer today. Go seek other realms beneath heaven. Sooner depart and leave Rome's seven famed hills to me. Please do the poet a favor and shorten the glorious hours Which the painter devours, eagerly filling his eyes. Cast now but one ardent glance, while descending, on noble fa�ades and Cupolas, pillars, and—last—up at the obelisks. Then Hastily plunge to the ocean. Come view all the sooner tomorrow That which, for centuries now, gods have let you enjoy: Italy's shoreline so long overgrown with moist reeds, elevations Somberly rising to shades cast by the bushes and trees. First were but few simple dwellings here, suddenly sunlight discovered Nations enlivening hills teeming with fortunate thieves. Onto this spot they assembled such plunder, in your eye so splendid All earth's remaining orb scarcely was worthy of note. You watched a world being born here, watched the same world sink to ruin, And from those ruins yet arise world again greater, perhaps. O may I long by your light now behold this Rome. May the Parc� Spin the fine thread of my life slowly, taking great care. O but come rushing the moment my love designated so sweetly. Wonderful! Sound already the chimes? —No, but I heard at least three. Thus, my dear muses, again you've beguiled the monotony for me. Of this long interval while I was apart from my love. All of you now, farewell! I'll be going now—don't be offended. For, though you're proud, you'll concede: Cupid in my heart comes first.
XIX Why did you fail to appear at the cot in the vineyard today, Love? As I had promised I would, long I awaited you there. "Dear, I had almost arrived when I saw, by good fortune, your uncle Standing right there by the vines, looking now this way, now that. Stealthily I slipped away." —Alas, what a misapprehension! You saw the scarecrow, that's all. Nothing else drove you away. Reeds and some discarded garments all hastily cobbled together— I helped to make it myself: diligent in my own grief. "Well, now his wish is fulfilled. The old gardner's most dissolute crow has Left on this day unscathed nice little garden and niece."
XX While there is many an unpleasant sound, I hate to hear barking Worse than anything else. Bellowing dogs split my ears. Nevertheless I do like to hear, and take pleasure in listening To the loud howl of the dog raised from a pup next door. That is the dog that so bayed one time at my girl that he almost Gave our secret away (when she was visiting me). Now, when I hear the dog barking I think my beloved is coming— Or I remember the time, when long awaited she came.
XXI I can tell not only about a discomfort far greater than others, But of a horror besides, thinking of which will arouse Every fiber in me to revulsion. My friends, I confess it: Great displeasure I take lying alone in my bed. But it's a horror to fear on the pathways of love you'll discover Snakes and their venom beneath roses of eager desire— That at the moment supreme, when I'm yielding to pleasure so fully, Right at my head as it droops, hissing disease may approach. That's why Faustina as my companion in bed makes me happy: Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her. Young men are aroused in their passions by obstacles and by excitement; I prefer to go slow, savoring pleasures secure. Is it not bliss to exchange tender kisses containing no dangers, Sucking into our lungs, carefree, our partner's own life? That is the way our long nights of enjoyment are passed. We listen, Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching Blossoms that will adorn festive the coming new day. Quirites, permit me the joy, and may this, of all pleasures on earth the First and the last, be vouchsafed all of mankind by the god.
XVIII I cannot think I'd have gone with Julius Caesar to Britain; To the Popina right here, Florus would tug me with ease. Fogs of the dreary north remain a more baleful remembrance Than in the kitchens of Rome tribes of assiduous fleas. After today, I'll remember you even more kindly, tavernas, You osterias, as you are called, aptly by those here in Rome. That was the place I encountered my mistress today with the uncle Whom she so often deceives, so that she can have me. Here's where I sat at a table surrounded by good-natured Germans; Over on that side the girl, finding a seat for herself Next to her mother where, frequently shifting her bench, she arranged Nicely for me to perceive profile and curve of her neck; Speaks just a little more loudly than women in Rome are accustomed; Significant glance as she pours—misses the glass with the wine So that it spills on the table, and she with a delicate finger Over its surface can draw circles in damp arabesque: Her name entwining in mine, while my eyes most eagerly follow All that her fingertip writes. She is of course well aware That I am watching, so finally makes the V of the Roman Five, with a virgule before. Quickly, as soon as I've seen, She interlaces the circles, reducing them all to ornatest Patterns—but still the sweet IV stood as engraved in my eye. I sat there mutely and biting my passionate lips almost bloody Half from delight at the ruse, partly from stifled desire: Such a long time until dark, then another four hours of waiting. —Sun, who tarries on high, contemplating Rome: Greater never you've nor shall you in future see greater Than Rome, O sun, as your priest, Horace, enraptured foretold. Tarry no longer today. Go seek other realms beneath heaven. Sooner depart and leave Rome's seven famed hills to me. Please do the poet a favor and shorten the glorious hours Which the painter devours, eagerly filling his eyes. Cast now but one ardent glance, while descending, on noble fa�ades and Cupolas, pillars, and—last—up at the obelisks. Then Hastily plunge to the ocean. Come view all the sooner tomorrow That which, for centuries now, gods have let you enjoy: Italy's shoreline so long overgrown with moist reeds, elevations Somberly rising to shades cast by the bushes and trees. First were but few simple dwellings here, suddenly sunlight discovered Nations enlivening hills teeming with fortunate thieves. Onto this spot they assembled such plunder, in your eye so splendid All earth's remaining orb scarcely was worthy of note. You watched a world being born here, watched the same world sink to ruin, And from those ruins yet arise world again greater, perhaps. O may I long by your light now behold this Rome. May the Parc� Spin the fine thread of my life slowly, taking great care. O but come rushing the moment my love designated so sweetly. Wonderful! Sound already the chimes? —No, but I heard at least three. Thus, my dear muses, again you've beguiled the monotony for me. Of this long interval while I was apart from my love. All of you now, farewell! I'll be going now—don't be offended. For, though you're proud, you'll concede: Cupid in my heart comes first.
XIX Why did you fail to appear at the cot in the vineyard today, Love? As I had promised I would, long I awaited you there. "Dear, I had almost arrived when I saw, by good fortune, your uncle Standing right there by the vines, looking now this way, now that. Stealthily I slipped away." —Alas, what a misapprehension! You saw the scarecrow, that's all. Nothing else drove you away. Reeds and some discarded garments all hastily cobbled together— I helped to make it myself: diligent in my own grief. "Well, now his wish is fulfilled. The old gardner's most dissolute crow has Left on this day unscathed nice little garden and niece."
XX While there is many an unpleasant sound, I hate to hear barking Worse than anything else. Bellowing dogs split my ears. Nevertheless I do like to hear, and take pleasure in listening To the loud howl of the dog raised from a pup next door. That is the dog that so bayed one time at my girl that he almost Gave our secret away (when she was visiting me). Now, when I hear the dog barking I think my beloved is coming— Or I remember the time, when long awaited she came.
XXI I can tell not only about a discomfort far greater than others, But of a horror besides, thinking of which will arouse Every fiber in me to revulsion. My friends, I confess it: Great displeasure I take lying alone in my bed. But it's a horror to fear on the pathways of love you'll discover Snakes and their venom beneath roses of eager desire— That at the moment supreme, when I'm yielding to pleasure so fully, Right at my head as it droops, hissing disease may approach. That's why Faustina as my companion in bed makes me happy: Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her. Young men are aroused in their passions by obstacles and by excitement; I prefer to go slow, savoring pleasures secure. Is it not bliss to exchange tender kisses containing no dangers, Sucking into our lungs, carefree, our partner's own life? That is the way our long nights of enjoyment are passed. We listen, Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching Blossoms that will adorn festive the coming new day. Quirites, permit me the joy, and may this, of all pleasures on earth the First and the last, be vouchsafed all of mankind by the god.
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