The Death of Lovers
We shall have beds filled with light odours, couches deep as tombs, and, set out on shelves, rare flowers which bloomed for us under more beautiful skies.
Vying to use up their last heats, our hearts will be two great torches, which will reflect their double lights in our two spirits, those twin mirrors.
One evening made of mystic blue and rose, we shall exchange a single bolt of lightning, like a long sob, laden with farewells;
And later an Angel, gently opening the doors, will come, faithful and joyous, to revive the dulled mirrors and the dead flames.