We shall have beds full of subtle perfumes, Divans as deep as graves, and on the shelves Will be strange flowers that blossomed for us Under more beautiful heavens. Using their dying flames emulously, Our two hearts will be two immense torches Which will reflect their double light In our two souls, those twin mirrors. Some evening made of rose and of mystical blue A single flash will pass between us Like a long sob, charged with farewells; And later an Angel, setting the doors ajar, Faithful and joyous, will come to revive The tarnished mirrors, the extinguished flames.