"In the blue summer evenings, I go to the trails,
pricked by the wheat treading in the tender grass:
dreamy feel the coolness under your feet and let the wind
me the bathrooms bareheaded.
I will not speak, I will not think of anything more:
but I will rise in the soul's infinite love,
and I will go far, far away like a gypsy,
in nature, as happy with a woman. "
RIMBAUD
0 comments:
Post a Comment