Baudelaire, today:
"Correspondences"
In Nature's temple living pillars rise,
and words are murmured none have understood
and man must wander through a tangled wood
of Symbols watching him with friendly eyes.
As long-drawn echoes heard far off and dim
mingle to one deep sound and fade away;
vast as the night and brilliant as the day
colour and sound and perfume speak to him
Some perfumes are as fragrant as a child
sweet as the sound of hautboys, meadow-green
Others, corrupted, rich, exultant, wild
Have all the expansion of things infinite:
as amber, incense, musk and benzoin,
which sing the sense's and the soul's delight
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