Others will lead me towards happiness
By the horns on my brow knotted with many a tress:
You know, my passion, how ripe and purple already
Every pomegranate bursts, murmuring with the bees:
And our blood, of what will seize it,
Flows for all the eternal swarm of desire yet.
By the horns on my brow knotted with many a tress:
You know, my passion, how ripe and purple already
Every pomegranate bursts, murmuring with the bees:
And our blood, of what will seize it,
Flows for all the eternal swarm of desire yet.
Mallarme - Poems
