Genie (Arthur Rimbaud Poems)
He is love and the present because he has opened our house to winter's foam and to the sound of ...
He is love and the present because he has opened our house to winter's foam and to the sound of ...
I.O the enormous avenues of the Holy Land, the temple terraces! What has become of the Brahman who explained the ...
On an evening, for example, when the naive tourist has retired from our economic horrors, a master's hand awakens the ...
O that warm February morning! The untimely south came to stir up our absurd paupers' memories, our young distress. Henrika ...
I. It is a repose in the light, neither fever nor languor, on a bed or on a meadow. It ...
One of the voices Always angelic - It is about me, - Sharply expresses itself : Those thousand questionsSpreading their ...
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