Vaguely lit by the summer moon, Erect, naked, dreaming in her pallor of gold

Streaked by the heavy wave of her  blue hair,In the shadowy glade whenre stars spring in the moss,

The Dryade gazes up at the silent sky…- White Selene, timidly, lets her veil float,Over the feet of beautiful Endymion,And throws him a kiss in a pale beam…-

The Spring sobs far off in a long ecstasy.. is the nymph who dreams with one elbow on her urn, Of the handsome white stripling her wave has pressed against.-

A soft wind of love has passed in the night,And in the sacred woods, amid the standing hair of the great trees,Erect in majesty, the shadowly Marbles,The Gods, on whose brows the Bullfinch has his nest,- the Gods listen to Men, and to the infinite World!

Arthur Rimbaud May 70

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