O the enormous avenues of the holy land, the terraces of the temple! What did they do with the Brahmin who explained the Proverbs to me? So, from there, I can still see even the old ones! I remember the hours of silver and sun towards the rivers, the companion's hand on my shoulder, and our caresses standing in the peppered plains. - A flight of scarlet pigeons thunders around my thought. - Exiled here, I had a scene where to play the dramatic masterpieces of all literatures. I would point out the incredible riches to you. I observe the history of the treasures you find. I see the rest! My wisdom is as despised as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the stupor that awaits you?
Rimbaud.
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