I am transparent, she says. Transparent like the sounds of dawn. I am the mirror, I stand aside
-and in the valley a milky morning pushes the shores of river to the threshold. to the roofs of the houses soft with sleep
-at its birth, the day is divided between the gladness of the meadow and the late light of the pool
I am she says, I am in the light of day.
Marcelin Pleynet
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Translated Mary Anne Caws
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