Beacons (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
Reubens, river of forgetfulness, garden of sloth,Pillow of wet flesh that one cannot love,But where life throngs and seethes without ...
Reubens, river of forgetfulness, garden of sloth,Pillow of wet flesh that one cannot love,But where life throngs and seethes without ...
Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows,And all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone.I already hear the dead ...
Are they blue, gray or green? Mysterious eyes (as if in fact you were looking through a mist) in alternation ...
Late autumns, winters, spring-times steeped in mud,anaesthetizing seasons! You I praise, and lovefor so enveloping my heart and brainin vaporous ...
Reubens, river of forgetfulness, garden of sloth, Pillow of wet flesh that one cannot love, But where life throngs and ...
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