bernard chenier


IT is a wild small valley or sound the tocsin;
Above the source a naked woman bends.
It is the suspended laughing hamadryade to waved it.
Touching lightly a shy foot the cold water of the basin.
the love seizes Laure's body that was girt some on,
In the shooting wave where gamboled his/her white flesh
Of his/her body bare of the froth, emerge a hip,
Of his/her clear hair, a chest or the rose of a breast.
A divine gaîté fills the big wood sinks.

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