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XVII
[Did we not, Darling, you and I]
Je pleure dans les coins; je n' ai plus goût à rien;
Oh! j'ai tant pleuré, Dimanche, en mon paroissien!
JULES LAFORGUE
Oh! j'ai tant pleuré, Dimanche, en mon paroissien!
JULES LAFORGUE
Did we not, Darling, you and I,
Walk on the earth like other men?
Did we not walk and wonder why
They spat upon us so. And then
Walk on the earth like other men?
Did we not walk and wonder why
They spat upon us so. And then
We lay us down among fresh earth,
Sweet flowers breaking overhead,
Sore needed rest for our frail girth,
For our frail hearts; a well-sought bed.
Sweet flowers breaking overhead,
Sore needed rest for our frail girth,
For our frail hearts; a well-sought bed.
So Spring came, and spread daffodils;
Summer, and fluffy bees sang on;
The fluffy bee knows us, and fills
His house with sweet to think upon.
Summer, and fluffy bees sang on;
The fluffy bee knows us, and fills
His house with sweet to think upon.
Deep in the dear dust, Dear, we dream:
Our melancholy is a thing
At last our own; and none esteem
How our black lips are blackening.
Our melancholy is a thing
At last our own; and none esteem
How our black lips are blackening.
And none note how our poor eyes fall,
Nor how our cheeks are sunk and sere...
Dear, when you waken, will you call?...
Alas! we are not very near.
Nor how our cheeks are sunk and sere...
Dear, when you waken, will you call?...
Alas! we are not very near.
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