A pale sky, to the world that ends in disrepair, perhaps starting with the clouds: the worn-out shreds of purple in the west bleed over a sleeping river on the horizon, submerged by rays and water. Trees are bored, and underneath their bleached foliage (from the dust of time rather than that of roads), the house rises on the canvas of the keeper of things past: many a streetlight waits for the dawn and revives the faces of an unhappy crowd, defeated by the immortal disease and the sin of centuries, of men near their sick accomplices, pregnant with miserable fruit, with which the earth will die. In the uneasy silence of all the begging eyes beneath the sun which, under the water, sinks with the despair of a cry, here’s the simple pitch. “Nothing teaches you not to enjoy the show inside, because he is not a painter capable of throwing a sad shadow anymore. I am alive (and preserved through the years by the sovereign, science): a woman of the past. Some madness, original and naïve, a golden ecstasy, I don’t know what! By her her hair was named, it bends with the grace of cloth around a face which lights the bloody nakedness of her lips. Instead of the vain garment, she has a body, and her eyes, like rare stones! are not as precious as this glance out of her happy flesh: of the breasts raised as if they were full of eternal milk, pointing toward the sky, with smooth legs that retain the salt of the first sea.” Bearing in mind their poor wives, bald, morbid, and full of horror, the husbands crowd together: they also, with curiosity, melancholy, want to watch.

When all will have contemplated the noble creature, a vestige of some time already cursed, some indifferent, because they will not have the strength to understand, but the others saddened, with eyelids wet, looking on with resigned glances, while the poets of those times, feeling their faded eyes light up again, moving toward their lamp, the drunken brain, one moment of a vague glory, haunted by Rhythm and in the oblivion of living in an age in which Beauty survives.