you The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them? The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies. And what is love? The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate. I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following, Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night, Talkative young ones to those that like.