According to the ancient Greeks, throughout the day the sun crossed the sky in a chariot drawn by four horses. By analogy I make Night have its own. And with the Roman poet Horace I beg them not to rush, but rather, go slow to prolong the dreams that assail us in their way. Here are some of them. When I woke up and before the fleeting images vanished, I have written what I had just dreamed.
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