How sweet to watch the night open its eyes—
first lamp light, first star born in the azure deep.
The dark river of coal smoke begins to creep
up, painting the moon with a sallow charm.(Baudelaire)
You are viewing a single comment's thread from:
How sweet to watch the night open its eyes—
first lamp light, first star born in the azure deep.
The dark river of coal smoke begins to creep
up, painting the moon with a sallow charm.(Baudelaire)
That is very lovely. You are a Baudelaire reader, I see. :)