My dream pet
I often dream this strange and penetrating One unknown woman, and that I love and who loves me And that is, every time, or quite the same Neither any in fact another, and loves me and understands me. Because she understands me, and my heart, transparent For her alone, alas! Ceases to be a problem for Alone, and the dampness of my pale face, she only knows them cool, weeping. Is it brown, blonde or red? - I do not know. His name? I remember it was sweet and sound As those that loved life exiled. His eyes are like the eyes of statues, And for her voice, distant, quiet and serious, she The inflection of voice that expensive are silent. Paul Verlaine.
My dream pet
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