Translations/Adaptations of Rimbaud
One fine morning in a city of pretty people, a superlative man and woman shouted in the square:
"I pronounce her Queen."
"I am Queen!" she tittered and trembled.
He chatted with friends of revelations, signs of the end. They were their own mutual society.
And they were, for that one morning, royalty, purple banners on the houses and all, and for the whole afternoon as they entered a garden of palms.
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