Moonlight
Your soul is a chosen landscape What masks are charming and Bergamo Playing the lute and dancing and almost Sad Beneath their fantastic disguises. While singing in a minor Love winner and timely life, they do not seem to believe in their happiness And their song mingles with the moonlight, the calm moon sad beautiful dream Who birds in the trees Sob of ecstasy And the jets of water, Large slender fountains among the marble. Paul Verlaine.
Moonlight
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