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To A Reason


A rap of your finger on the drum

fires all the sounds

and starts a new harmony.

A step of yours: the levy of new men

and their marching on.

Your head turns away:

O the new love!

Your head turns back:

O the new love!

"Change our lots, confound the plagues,

beginning with time,

"to you these children sing.

"Raise no matter where the substance

of our fortune and our desires,

"they beg you.

Arrival of all time,

who will go everywhere."

Arthur Rimbaud

(Painting: László Mednyánszky - Landscape at dusk)

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