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Ah, maybe he's the one who
often rejoiced painting my soul
alone amid excitements
with his occult colours
How modest and vigilant he
climbed the sad doorsteps
and lit up a new fever
arousing my love!
Such a love that makes
the whole universe palpitate
mysterious and lofty
crucifixion and delight for my heart

Madness! This is a futile delirium!
Poor woman, alone, abandoned
in this crowded desert
that's called Paris
what do I hope for now on?
What must I do?
Have fun!
Perish in the vortices of pleasure!
Have fun!