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Another Fan

Dear dreamer, help me to take off
Into my pathless, pure delight,
By always holding in your glove
My wing, a thin pretence of flight.

A freshness as of twilight brushes
Against you as you flutter me,
And each imprisoned wing-beat pushes
Back the horizon tenderly.

It's dizzying: shivers run through space
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gregg Glory Brown 05 August 2018

Really excellent translation. Reading a lot of Mallarme lately, and many translations. Sometimes efforts by non-pros outshines the most credentialed and honored poets. Great work!

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