In Morte Vita

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Collar of ClawsPeriod 19th century

The soldier’s mistress
Is death.
So that he may be unfaithful to her
Come, women.
Surround with your [white] arms
The hard sheet
That dresses him in plain colors
For the fight.
Kiss his mouth and his eyes
But in vain;
He will forget your caresses
For he thinks
That his mistress forever
Is death.

Charles Cros

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