Correspondences
Nature is a temple
where living pillars
Sometimes let out estranged
words;
Man passes amidst
forests of symbols
Which gaze at him knowingly.
Like long echoes that
from afar mingle
In a deep and dark
unity,
Vast like the night
and the day,
Perfumes, colors and
sounds reverberate.
Some perfumes are fresh
like the flesh of children,
Soft as oboes, green
as pastures,
-while others, corrupt,
rich and overwhelming,
Expanding like all
things infinite,
Such as amber, musk, benzoin
and incense,
Sing the exaltation of
spirit and senses.
