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And the Poet Says You Visit After Dark

On calm black waters filled with sleeping stars
White Ophelia floats like a lily,
Floating so slowly, bedded in long veils …
—Hunting horns rise from the distant forest.

A thousand years without sad Ophelia,
A white ghost on the long black river;
A thousand years of her sweet madness
Murmuring its ballad in the evening breeze.

—Arthur Rimbaud, I Promise to be Good: Letters of Arthur Rimbaud

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