Thy fingers a frosted stream.
Thy maidens are white like pebbles;
Their music about thee!
There is none like thee among the dancers;
None with swift feet.
FROM “NEAR PÉRIGORD”
Ed eran due in uno, ed uno in due. Inferno, XXVIII, 125.
I loved a woman. The stars fell from heaven.
And always our two natures were in strife.
Bewildering spring, and by the Auvezère