Nature is a temple where living columns
Sometimes give forth muffled words;
Man travels through the forests of symbols
Which watch him with familiar eyes.Like long echos which from far away are blurred
In a shadowy and profound unity
Vast like the night and like the clarity
The perfumes, the colors, and the sounds respond.
There are fresh perfumes like child's flesh
Gentle like oboes, green like prairies
— And others, corrupt, rich, and triumphant,
With the expansiveness of infinite things,
Like amber, musk, benjamin, and incense
Which sing the transports of the soul and senses.
