September 5, 2003 by AK
O wondrous Psyche!
Where are gone the azure wings,
The light eyes,
And the golden braids?
How terrible is the eyes’ incinerated look,
Still enamored with pure expanses!
Into a dreadful wood your life has entered;
Burnt out, you’re doomed to flash;
A light will-o’-the-wisp, you ramble here and there,
And ‘mid the night you lure astray the way-farer.
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