"Monsieur, when winter comes, with its cold, wet and snowy weather, your doctor says to you constantly: 'Keep your feet warm, guard against chills, colds, bronchitis, rheumatism and pleurisy.'
"Then you are very careful, you wear flannel, a heavy greatcoat and thick shoes, but all this does not prevent you from passing two months in bed. But when
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I like this description of spring:
Around this absurd fecundity, green, red on green, yellow
ochre leaves,
there is no disguising these blasts of secretions, the rising
vernal sap,
nowhere to hide from its power, the vengeance of this late
spring,
From here, 2nd poem down.
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I'm mtg up with someone to hold their hand through some piercings ;)
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