Regret, no more the thick young arms of pure grass.
Gold of April moons in the heart of holy bed!
Arthur Rimbaud, "Memory", trans. Christopher Middleton
posted by mh at 12:36 AM
A ruddy drop of manly blood The surging sea outweighs, The world uncertain comes and goes
Gold of April moons in the heart of holy bed!
Arthur Rimbaud, "Memory", trans. Christopher Middleton
posted by mh at 12:36 AM
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