It Was All Infinite Emptiness, Except When We Were Together Making Love. And Even Then I Dreaded The

Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire The Consumes All Before It

Cy Twombly, 1978

Oil, oil crayon, and graphite on canvas

Photo taken from the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Dum pudeo pereo (as I blush, I die) says an old love song. Blood rushes to the face, at the same time the heart seems to wither on itself and snap,

Anne Carson, Kinds of Water

but you, in this wilderness alone You've got to live to take the next bite

Dagna Ślepowrońska, tr. Regina Grol

the tenderness…. 

I do not believe that there was ever a question of being abstract or representational. It is really a matter of ending this silence and solitude, of breathing and stretching one’s arms again.

Mark Rothko, The Romantics Were Prompted... 

I found this really cool list of women’s translations of ancient Greek and Roman texts! It lists English-language translations dating from the 17th century to 2015. 

he does not understand the reason for the moon

Garous Abdolmalekian, Long Poem of Loneliness tr. Ahmed Nadalizadeh and Idra Novey

I was only time flowing through myself.

Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion

So the truth is he didn't fall in love either, he fell into Faith

Niall Williams, History of the Rain

Someone was and was here and then suddenly disappeared and is stubbornly gone.

Wisława Szymborska, A Cat in an Empty Apartment tr. Regina Grol