I love that language, that soft bastard Latin...

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,
And sounds as if it should be writ on satin,
With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,
And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in,
That not a single accent seems uncouth,
Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,
Which we’re obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all.

I like the women too (forgive my folly),
From the rich peasant cheek of ruddy bronze,
And large black eyes that flash on you a volley
Of rays that say a thousand things at once,
To the high dama’s brow, more melancholy,
But clear, and with a wild and liquid glance,
Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes,
Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
-Byron, Beppo S. 44-5.
Read this beauty the other day and it conjured immediately the images of my favorite sunny spot, my most-dreamed of fairytale place, the Amalfi Coast. Visions of wine, and kisses and hair wet from the sea, mingled with pizza, and pizza, and dare I say...more pizza. 
But good God, y'all, Byron could write. 
xx  see you back next week for a recipe + travel motivation. 

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