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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
PRAISE OF DISEASES ~ Jacopene da Todi (c. 1250)
O Lord, in your courtesy Send me each infirmity! Send the quartan fever to me, Send the constant, tertiary, Send me fever, double, daily, And great dropsy's misery. Send me every kind of toothache, Headache and the stomach ache, Make my belly sharply ache, For my throat a malady. Trouble in eyes with pain for side, Imposthume within left side, Let consumption gnaw me inside, And all the time insanity. Let my liver burn with fire, My spleen grow large, my paunch swell higher, Lungs go ulcered, and a dire Cough seize on me, and a palsy.
Let my flesh grow fistular, And my body carbuncular, And my cancers such as are Enough to fill me thoroughly.
Let the gout descend to torment, Sore eyes bring cause for new lament, Dysentery keep me bent And hemorrhoids perpetually.
Let the asthma make me strain, Let its spasm bring me pain; Like a dog's make mad my brain, My mouth with cankers tortured be.
Let the falling sickness maim, Let me fall in water and flame, And never find a spot where they came No hurt, but pain me utterly.
Let me go sightless, strike me blind; Deafness, muteness let me find, Wretched poverty unkind, Always ensnared in misery.
Let my fetor stink to heaven So great that not one person even Will be who from me is not driven, Placed in so much agony.
Let this terrible ditch, a site Regoverci called aright, Be a place abandoned quite By every goodly company.
Let ice and hail and tempest rise, Lightning, thunder, blackest skies, Let there be no adversities Which do not hold me at their mercy.
Let the demons out of hell Be my ministers as well, Let them try me with evil spell: This I have earned with my folly.
Until this world of ours is done, If that long my life shall run, Till final dissolution Let harsh death be given me.
Give me when at last I'm dead To a wolf's belly famishéd; My bones? Be they in ordure laid, The wilderness my cemetery.
Let dreadful spirits torment my ghost, Let them escort me, be my host, And strong vexations trouble most With their frightful fantasy.
Let every man who hears my shame, If he's aghast at my ill-fame, Cross himself in Jesus' name Lest he meet ill on his journey.
My Lord, not for revenge or spite Is all this pain that I indite, But that You made me in love's delight, And I have slain You for villainy.
Translated from Italian courtesy of L. R. Lind, from the anthology World Poetry published by Norton & Company (1998)

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I DIE OF THIRST WHILE AT THE FOUNTAIN SIDE ~ François Villon (1431-1463?)
I die of thirst while at the fountain side, Hot as fire, my teeth are chattering, In my own country, far off I abide, Near the blaze I burn, still shivering, Naked as a worm, dressed like my Lord the Mayor, I laugh in tears and wait, but without hope, I brighten up again, in sad despair, I'm joyful, and I don't have any fun. Powerful, and with no strength to cope, Well received, dismissed by everyone.
I'm sure of nothing but uncertainties, I find obscure all that is evident, Doubtful of nothing but certainties, My learning comes by sudden accident, Winner of everything, a loser overall, At dawn I say, "God give you a good night," When I'm laid out I'm still afraid I'll fall, I own the bank, without a sou in sight, Await inheritance, as no-one's son, Well received, dismissed by everyone.
Careless and carefree, still a working stiff So I can buy what I don't need to buy, Those who speak best to me most piss me off, And those who are most true most often lie, A friend is anyone who lets me know, That a white swan is just a coal-black crow, And those who hurt believe they help I see, Falsehood and truth are all the same to me, I can recall each thing, and think of none, Well received, dismissed by everyone.
Merciful Prince, let's hope you like this one, I've learned a lot, no sense or knowledge won, I'm someone special, and common in the dock. What's left to do? Get my junk out of hock. Well received, dismissed by everyone.
Translation by David Curzon and Jeffrey Fiskin, from the anthology World Poetry published by Norton & Company (1998)