Henri Cazalis Biography

All is a lie: love and mind not;
Dream while desires are sobbing;
Offer to wounds thou canst bind not
Thy heart that stays not its throbbing.
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In summer eves the flowers have languors of
Women, and suffer as do souls with love;
Imploring hymens they shall die of soon,
They dream and tremble underneath the moon;
Yea, flowers have looks like women's great moist eyes,
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The crimson morning dazzled me mine eyes,
This, and the swarming sun-gold on the sea,
The sea that made me languish with its sighs
As of a woman rolling under me.
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