In the dark world that shape our bodies,
Nerves see in us what our eyes We know
above the bottom of our flesh slower
They inhabit our distant from their shiny grass
Snatching the trembling flesh of aurora.
is the world where space is because of our blood.
birds dyed red and always recurring
Have difficulty flying near the heart that leads
And that can not move away from perishing
For it is that we are the cruellest plains
Where the it dies of thirst nearly incorrect fountains.
And so we will, among other men, sometimes speaking
Some in the ears of others.
Jules Supervielle , The Fable of the world
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