I wait, but do not know for what or why
Or perhaps you are uttering the last bruised sighs,
Ignorant of the mystery and of your cries,
Of a childhood feeling its frozen gems
Being broken off at last amidst its dreams. (Stéphane Mallarmé)

I wait, but do not know for what or why Or perhaps you are uttering the last bruised sighs, Ignorant of the mystery and of your cries, Of a childhood feeling its frozen gems Being broken off at last amidst its dreams.

Stéphane Mallarmé

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