by Arthur Rimbaud
(Bertrand Mathieu, tr.)
One fine morning, in a land of extremely gentle people, a very beautiful man and woman called out, quite loud, in a public space: "Dear friends, I want her to be queen!" "And I want to be queen!" She was laughing and trembling. He was telling friends about a revelation, about an ordeal they'd come through. They were weak with happiness.
As a matter of fact, they were royalty for a whole morning, while the houses were covered with bright-red bunting, and for a whole afternoon, while they walked in the direction of the palm gardens.