A salamander scuttles across the quiet
They tear apart the mist, it is as though,
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
Blurring the terrain,
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
And the worlds—skiffs rudderless, rolling on—
But when, on the timepieces that we call
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form.
Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,
Come, swallows, it's good-bye.
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Suddenly, in a savage, dreadful bend,
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
That only you and I can know. Les deux
The ordinary, wide scene which begins
Seized from creation by nonentity,
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
They tear apart the mist, it is as though,
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
Blurring the terrain,
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
And the worlds—skiffs rudderless, rolling on—
But when, on the timepieces that we call
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form.
Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,
Come, swallows, it's good-bye.
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
Suddenly, in a savage, dreadful bend,
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
That only you and I can know. Les deux
The ordinary, wide scene which begins
Seized from creation by nonentity,
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
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