makes the dreamless night seem long!
The shadowy light, in motion,
dresses our naked bodies
and gives them sparkles of rare woods
or, greedy, makes them more opaque.
Enjoy it! if you wish,
provoke the second hand of death
to suddenly fail— what weariness?
in what affliction? as in a bottomless
well of morning light . . .
Let us be silent this last night—
Let us then wait without farewell:
this silver dust—
moonlight! of course!—
makes us again romantic.
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