Verlaine




That night I'd bent over you in your sleep.
Your whole body slept chastely on the humble bed,
And like a dedicated scholar I understood
That all on earth is vanity.

That we're alive's a miracle;
We're as frail as wilting flowers.
Thinking leads to madness.
Sleep on poor child.  My fears for you keep me awake...



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Transtromer

  Calling Home   Our phone call spilled out into the dark and glittered between the...