I should like to relate this memory…
but it is so faded now… scarcely anything is left —
because it lies far off, in the years of my early manhood.
A skin as if made of jasmine…
that night in August — was it August? — that night…
I can just barely remember the eyes; they were, I think, blue…
Ah yes, blue; a sapphire blue.
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Now that night would be remembered if it were memorable.
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