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In a street, in the heart of a dream town,
It will be as if one has already lived:
A moment which is both very vague and very
sharp . . .
Oh! this sunshine coming through the mist which
is lifting!
It will be like when one dreams and wakes up,
And then goes back to sleep and dreams once
more
Of the same fairyland and the same scenery,
The summer, in the grass in the watered sound of
a bees flight.



Kaleidoscope,
Verlaine