Elle savait toutes les legendes du Paradis et tous les contes de la Pologne. Revue des Deux Maudes
She
How is it that my saints from Voragine,
In their embroidered slippers, touch your spleen?

He
Old pantaloons, duenna of the spring!

She
Imagination is the will of things. . . .
Thus, on the basis of the common drudge,
You dream of women, swathed in indigo,
Holding their books toward the nearer stars,

To read, in secret, burning secrecies. . . .