I then embraced the Summer dawn.
Nothing moved on palace brows.
The water dead, the camp of shadows
Did not leave the woodland path.
I walked, waking warm and living breath.
The one I met upon this path,
Now full of cool, pale radiance,
A flower who gave to me her name.
I laughed at the blond haired waterfall.
Dishevelling her locks between the pines
And recognized the goddess
Set atop the distant silver peak.
Dawn By Arthur Rimbaud
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