By summer's blue nights
I'll tread the paths,
To, wheat-pricked, crush
The tender grass:
Seer, I'll feel its cool
Beneath my feet,
And leave the wind to bathe
My naked skull.
I won't say a word, I'll think
Of nothing:
But infinite love will lift me
Into my soul,
And I'll go far, so far,
Like a bohemian,
Happy as I would be with
A woman.
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