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Here come the times when vibrating on its stem
Each flower evaporates like a censer;
Sounds and fragrances turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal
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Here come the times when vibrating on its stem
Each flower evaporates like a censer;
Sounds and fragrances turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal