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Charles Baudelaire
The Flowers of Evil
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE FLOWERS OF EVIL
(1861 Edition)
DEDICATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .16
THE READER. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .18
SPLEEN AND IDEAL
I. Blessing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 .....
II. L'Albatros. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24
III. Elevation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 ......
IV. Matches. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 ..
V. I love the memory .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .27
VI. Lighthouses. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .29
VII. Muse sick. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 ...
VIII. The Muse venal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 ..
IX. The Bad Monk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .34

X. The Enemy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .35

XI. The Guignon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 ..... Page 5

XII. The Former Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37

XIII. Bohemians travel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 ..
XIV. Man and Wed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .39
XV. Don Juan in Hell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 ..
XVI. Punishment of Pride. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 ..
XVII. Beauty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 ....
XVIII. The Ideal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 ....
XIX. The Giant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .45
XX. The Mask. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46
XXI. Ode to Beauty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .48
XXII. Exotic fragrance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .50
XXIII. Coma. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 ....
XXIV. I adore the same .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 ....
XXV. You would put the universe .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .54
XXVI. Sed non satiata. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 ...
XXVII. With his clothes .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .56
XXVIII. The Dancing Serpent. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 ..
XXIX. A Carrion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .59
XXX. De Profundis clamavi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 ...
XXXI. The Vampire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 ...
XXXII. One night I was .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .65
XXXIII. Posthumous remorse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .66
XXXIV. Chatting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 ....
XXXV. Duellum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 ....
XXXVI. The Balcony. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 ...

XXXVII. The Possessed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 ... Page 6

XXXVIII. A Ghost. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 ...

XXXIX. I give you these verses .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .76
XL. Semper Eadem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .77
XLI. Whole. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 ....
XLII. What will you say tonight .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .80
XLIII. The Torch alive. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 ....
XLIV. Reversibility. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 .....
XLV. Confession. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 ...
XLVI. Dawn spiritual. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .87
XLVII. Harmonie du Soir. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .88
XLVIII. The bottle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 ...
XLIX. Poison. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .91
L. Misty sky. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 ......
LI. Chatting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .94
LII. The Beautiful Ship. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97 ....
LIII. L'Invitation au voyage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 ...
LIV. The Irreparable. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .101
LV. Chat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .104
LVI. Autumn song. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
LVII. A Madonna. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
LVIII. Song afternoon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .109
LIX. Sisina. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .111
LX. Franciscae meae Lauds. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .112
LXI. A Creole Lady. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .114
LXII. Moesta and errabunda. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .115
LXIII. The Revenant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117 ... Page 7

LXIV. Sonnet autumn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 118 ...

LXV. Sorrows of the Moon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .119
LXVI. Cats. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .120
LXVII. The Owls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
LXVIII. Pipe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 ...
LXIX. Music. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
LXX. Burial. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .124
LXXI. A fantastic Engraving. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .125
LXXII. Happy Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .126
LXXIII. The Cask of Hate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .127
LXXIV. The cracked bell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .128
LXXV. Spleen (Pluvise, angry ...). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .129
LXXVI. Spleen (I have more memories ...). . . . . . . . . . .130
LXXVII. Spleen (I'm like the king ...). . . . . . . . . . . 132
LXXVIII. Spleen (When the low heavy sky ...). . . . . . .133
LXXIX. Obsession. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .134
LXXX. Taste of nothingness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135 ..
LXXXI. Alchemy pain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 ..
LXXXII. Horror friendly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .137
LXXXIII. The Hautontimoroumnos. . . . . . . . . . . . .138
LXXXIV. The Irreversible. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140 ..
LXXXV. Clock. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143 ...
TABLES IN PARIS
LXXXVI. Landscape. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146 ....
LXXXVII. The Sun. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148 ... Page 8

Lxxxviii. A beggar a redhead. . . . . . . . . . . .149

LXXXIX. The Swan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .152

XC. The Seven Elders. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155 ...
XCI. The Little Old. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158 ...
XCII. The Blind. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .163
XCIII. At a bandwidth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164 ..
XCIV. The farmer Skeleton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .165
XCV. The Evening Twilight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .167
XCVI. The Thurs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .169
XCVII. Danse Macabre. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .171
Xcviii. Love lies. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .175
XCIX. I have not forgotten .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .177
C. The servant at heart .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .178
CI. Mists and rains. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .179
CII. Parisian dream. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .180
CIII. Twilight in the morning. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184 ..
WINE
CIV. The Soul of wine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .186
CV. Wine ragpickers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188 ..
CVI. Wine of the murderer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
CVII. The Wine lonely. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
VCIII. Wine lovers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .194 Page 9

FLOWERS OF EVIL
CIX. Destruction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .196
CX. A Martyr. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .197
CXI. Damned Women (Like pensive cattle ...). . .200
CXII. The Two Good Sisters. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .202
Cxiii. The fountain of blood. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .203

CXIV. Allegory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204

CXV. Beatrice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .205
Cxvi. A Voyage to Cythera. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .207
CXVII. Love and skull. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .210
REVOLT
CXVIII. The Denial of Saint Peter. . . . . . . . . . .212
Cxix. Cain and Abel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
CXX. The Litanies of Satan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
DEATH
CXXI. Death lovers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .222
Cxxii. Death of the poor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .223
CXXIII. Death of artists. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .224
CXXIV. End of the day. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .225
CXXV. The Dream of a curious. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .226
CXXVI. The Journey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .227 Page 10

THE WRECK
The Romantic Sunset. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .236
PARTS FROM CONVICTED OF FLOWERS
EVIL
Lesbos. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .238
Damned Women (Delphine and Hippolyte). . . . . . . .242
Lethe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .248
A one that is too gay. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .250
Les Bijoux. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
The metamorphosis of the vampire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254
Galanteries
The water jet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .256

Eye Berthe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .259

Anthem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .260
Promises of a face. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .262
The Monster. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .263
Franciscae Meae Lauds. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .267
Epigraphs
Go to the portrait of Mr. Honor Daumier. . . . . .268
Lola de Valence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .269
On Tasso in prison D'Eugne Delacroix. . . . . . . . .270 Page 11

MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS
Voice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
The Unexpected. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 274
Ransom. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .277
At a Malabar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .278
Desert
On the beginnings of Amina Boschetti. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
About unwelcome. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281 ...
A cabaret sports. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .284
THE FLOWERS OF EVIL
(Contributions to the third edition, 1868)
Epigraph for a book condemned. . . . . . . . . . . . . .286
Madrigal sad. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .287
Prayer of a pagan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .290
The Rebel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .291
The Horn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .292
Contemplation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293 .....
Lid. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .294

Moon offended. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295

The Abyss. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 296
The Complaints of Icarus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .297
The Review of midnight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .298 Page 12

Far from here. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .299

Calumet peace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .301
A Thodore de Banville. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306 ...
FRAGMENTS AND DRAFT PREFACE
FLOWERS OF EVIL
FRAGMENTS
Bribes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .308
DRAFT PREFACE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .312 Page 13
Page 14

THE FLOWERS OF EVIL Page 15

Page 16

POET IN MINT CONDITION

ARTS IN PERFECT MAGICIAN
FRENCH
TO MY DEAR AND VERY WORSHIPPED
MASTER AND FRIEND
THOPHILE GAUTIER
WITH FEELINGS
THE DEEPEST HUMILITY
I DEDICATED
THESE FLOWERS sickly

CB

THE READER
Folly, error, sin, skimp,
Occupy our minds and our bodies work,
And we feed our pleasant remorse
As beggars nourish their vermin.
Our sins are stubborn, our repentance is faint;
We do pay for our confessions,
And we gaily in the muddy road,
Believing that base tears wash away all our stains.
On the pillow of evil Satan Trismegistus
Lulls our enchanted minds,
And the rich metal of our will
Is vaporized by the scientist chemist.
It is the devil who is the son that move us!
In repugnant things we discover charms;
Every day we descend to Hell one step,
Without horror, through gloom that stinks.
And a rake that poor fuck and eat
The tortured breast of an old whore,
We fly pass a clandestine pleasure
We squeeze hard like an old orange
The Flowers of Evil
19
Tight, swarming, like a million worms,
In our brains a binge of Demons,
And when we breathe into our lungs Death
Down, invisible river, with low moans.
If rape, poison, dagger, fire,

Have not yet embroidered with their pleasing designs

The banal canvas of our pitiable,
It is our soul, alas! is not bold enough.
But among the jackals, panthers, lists,
Monkeys, scorpions, vultures, snakes,
The monsters yelping, howling, growling, crawling,
In the infamous menagerie of our vices,
It is an uglier, more wicked, more filthy!
Although he makes no grand gestures or shouting,
He would be happy to land a debris
And a yawn swallow the world;
It is Boredom! The eye charged with involuntary crying,
He dreams of scaffolds while smoking his hookah.
You know him, reader, this delicate monster,
- Hypocrite reader - my likeness - my brother!

SPLEEN AND IDEAL

I. - Blessing
When, by a decree of the supreme powers
The Poet appears in this world bored,
His mother terrified and full of blasphemy
Clenches his fists at God, who takes pity:
- "Ah! what have I put down a whole nest of vipers,
Rather than feed this derision!
Cursed be the night to ephemeral pleasures
Where my stomach has designed my atonement!
Because you chose me among women
To the disgust of my husband sad,
And I can not throw into the flames,
Like a love letter, this stunted monster
I will COME OUT your hatred overwhelms me
The cursed instrument of thy wickedness,
And so I wring this miserable tree
He can push his buttons stinking! "
The Flowers of Evil
21
It thus degrades the foam of his hatred,
And not including the eternal purposes,
Prepares itself to the bottom of Hell
The pyre to maternal crimes.
However, under the tutelage of an angel invisible,
The disinherited child gets drunk sun
And in everything he drinks and eats everything
Found ambrosia and nectar vermeil.

He plays with the wind, because the cloud

And drunk singing the way of the cross;
And the Spirit who follows his pilgrimage
Cry to see gay as a bird of the woods.
Those he would love to watch with fear,
Or, emboldened by its tranquility,
That it will seek to draw a complaint
And do it on test their ferocity.
In the bread and wine for his mouth
They mix ashes with filthy spit;
With hypocrisy they throw it touches,
And accuse him of their feet in his footsteps. Page 22

The Flowers of Evil

22
His wife is crying in public places:
"Since I found beautiful enough to love me,
I will do the job of ancient idols
And like them, I want to restore me;
And I get drunk with spikenard, frankincense, myrrh,
Genuflections, meats and wines,
To know if I admire that in a heart me
Usurp divine honors laughing!
And when I am bored of these wicked tricks,
I'll put him on my frail and strong hand;
And my nails, like the nails harpies
His heart to know their way.
As a young bird that trembles and throbs,

I'll tear this whole red heart in her breast,

And to satiate my favorite animal
I throw it on the ground with disdain! "
To Heaven, where his eye sees a splendid throne,
The serene poet raises his pious arms
And large flashes of his lucid mind
Him steal the look of angry people: Page 23

The Flowers of Evil

23
- "Be blessed, my God, who gives us suffering
As a divine remedy for our impurities
And as the best and purest essence
Who prepares the strong for holy pleasures!
I know you keep a place in Poet
In the ranks of the blessed holy Legions,
And you invite to the eternal feast
Thrones, Virtues, Dominations.
I know that pain is the only nobility
Where you should never bite the earth and the underworld,
And the need to weave my mystic crown
Impose all time and all universes.
But the lost jewels of ancient Palmyra
Unknown metals, sea pearls,
Mounted by your hand, could not suffice
In this beautiful and dazzling tiara clear;
Because it will only be made of pure light,
Drawn from the holy fire of primitive ray

And whose mortal eyes, in their entire splendor,

Are only darkened and plaintive mirrors! "
II. - The Albatross
Often, for fun, the crewmen
Taking albatrosses, large sea birds
Following, indolent fellow travelers,
The ship gliding over the bitter depths.
Hardly have they filed on stage,
These kings of the blue, awkward and ashamed,
Pathetically let their great white wings
As oars hanging beside them.
This winged traveler, as it is weak and gauche
Him, once so beautiful, he's funny and ugly!
One annoys his beak with a cutty,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!
The Poet is like the prince of clouds
Who haunts the tempest and laughs at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting,
His giant wings prevent him from walking. Page 25

III. - Elevation
Above the ponds from above the valleys,
Mountains, woods, clouds, seas,
beyond the sun, beyond the ether,
beyond the confines of the starry spheres,
My mind, you move with agility,
And, as a good swimmer who swoons in the wave,
You gaily furrow deep immensity

With virile joy unspeakable.

Fly away far from these morbid miasma;
Will purify you in the upper air,
And wood, as a pure and divine liqueur
The bright light that fills the clear spaces.
Behind the troubles and sorrows vast
That charge their weight the misty existence
Blessed is he who is a strong wing
To rush the fields luminous and serene;
Man whose thoughts, like larks,
Toward the morning sky take flight,
- Who hovers over life and understands effortlessly
The language of flowers and silent things! Page 26

IV. - Matches
Nature is a temple where living pillars
Sometimes give voice to confused words;
Man passes there through forests of symbols
Who observe him with familiar eyes.
As long echoes far merge
In a dark and profound unity,
Vast as the night and as clarity,
The scents, colors and sounds answer.
It is fresh scents like the flesh of children,
Sweet as oboes, green as meadows,
- And others, corrupt, rich and triumphant,
Having the expansion of infinite things,
Like amber, musk, benzoin and incense,

Who sing the transports of the mind and senses. Page 27

V
I love the memory of those naked epochs
Which Phoebus liked to gild statues.
Then the man and woman in their agility
Enjoyed without lies and anxiety
And the sky lovers caressing their spines,
Exercised the health of their noble machine.
Cybele then, rich in generous products
Did not find her son too heavy a burden,
But wolf at heart swollen joint tenderness
Watered the universe to her brown nipples.
The man, elegant, robust and strong, had the right
To be proud of the beauty that called him their king;
Pure contempt and all virgin fruit cracking,
The smooth, firm flesh called bites!
The poet today, when he wants to design
These native sizes, to see places are
The nakedness of the man and the woman,
Feels cold darkness envelop her soul Page 28

The Flowers of Evil

28
Before the blackboard full of fearful sights.
O monstrous crying their clothes!
O ridiculous trunks! worthy torsos masks!
O poor twisted body, skinny or plump cheeks,

The god of Useful, implacable and serene,

Children swaddled in diapers brazen!
And you women, alas! pale as candles,
That eats and eats debauchery, and you, blank,
Breast vice dragging hereditary
And all the horrors of fertility!
We have, indeed, corrupt nations
The ancient people of unknown beauties:
Faces eaten by cankers heart,
And as it were the beauty of languor;
But these inventions of our late muses
Never will prevent unhealthy races
Make the youth a profound tribute
- A holy youth, looks simple, soft front
A crystal clear and bright eyes and a running water
And everything that goes on spreading, carefree
As the blue sky, birds and flowers,
Its perfumes, its songs and its sweet heat! Page 29

VI. - Lighthouses
Rubens, river of forgetfulness, garden laziness,
Pillow flesh where you can not love,
But where life flows and constant agitation,
As the air in the sky and the sea in the sea;
Leonardo da Vinci, deep and dark mirror
Where charming angels, with a soft mouse
Laden with mystery, appear in the shade
Glaciers and pine close their countries;

Rembrandt, sad hospital all filled with murmurs

And a large crucifix decorated only
Where tearful prayers exhales garbage,
And a range of winter suddenly traversed;
Michelangelo vague place where we see Hercules
Mingle with Christs, and rising straight
Powerful ghosts in the twilight
Tearing the shroud stretching their fingers; Page 30

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Boxer anger, impudence of wildlife
You pick up that extra beauty cads,
Great heart swelled with pride, weak and yellow man,
Puget, melancholy emperor of the convicts;
Watteau carnival where many illustrious hearts,
Like butterflies, wander flamboyant,
Fresh and light decorations lit by chandeliers
Paying this madness spinning ball;
Goya, nightmare full of unknown things,
Fetuses then cooked in the middle of the Sabbaths
The old mirror and naked children,
To try out their demons adjusting low;
Delacroix, lake of blood haunted by evil angels,
Shaded by a grove of evergreen trees,
Where, under a grief sky, strange fanfares
Spend like a stifled sigh of Weber;
These curses, these blasphemies, these complaints

These ecstasies, these cries, these tears, the Te Deum,

Are an echo repeated by a thousand labyrinths;
This is the mortal hearts a divine opium! Page 31

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This is repeated by a thousand sentinels cry
An order sent by a thousand megaphones;
It is a beacon lit a thousand citadels,
A call for hunters lost in the big woods!
For truly, Lord, the best evidence
We can give our dignity
This ardent sob that rolls through the ages
And just die on the edge of your eternity! Page 32

VII. - The Sick Muse

My poor muse, alas! what ails you this morning?
Your hollow eyes are full of nocturnal visions,
And I see in turn reflected on your face
Madness and horror, cold and taciturn.
The greenish succubus and pink pixie
Did they shed the fear and love of their polls?
The nightmare of a despotic and mischievous fist
Thee he drowned at the bottom of a fabulous Minturnae?
I would like exhaling the odor of health
Thy bosom strong thoughts was always busy,
And that your Christian blood flowed in rhythmic waves,
As many sounds of ancient syllables

Where reign in turn the father of songs,

Phoebus, and the great Pan, lord of the harvest. Page 33

VIII. - The Muse fair

O muse of my heart, lover of palaces,
Will you, when January unleash its borated,
During the troubles of black snowy evenings
A firebrand to warm your two feet purple?
So you reanimate your shoulders mottled
The nocturnal rays pierce the shutters?
Feeling your purse dry as much as your palate
You reap the golden arches azure?
II you need to earn your daily bread,
As an altar boy, playing the censer,
Te Deum which you scarcely believe,
Or acrobat fasting, spread your charms
And your laughter soaked in tears unseen,
To develop the spleen of the vulgar.
IX. - The Evil Monk
The ancient cloisters of their great walls
Ranged tables Holy Truth
The effect of warming the pious bowels
Tempered the coldness of their austerity.
In these times of Christ flourished sowing,
More than a monk shows today little city
Taking to the field workshop funeral
Glorified death with ease.
- My soul is a tomb that bad monk,

From eternity I travel and I live;

Nothing adorns the walls of this heinous cloister.
O monk lazy! So when will I be
Live performance of my sad misery
The work of my hands and the love of my eyes? Page 35

X. - The Enemy
My youth was a dark storm
Crossed here and there by brilliant suns;
The thunder and rain made such a havoc,
It remains in my garden very little ruddy fruit.
Here I hit the fall of ideas,
And must use the shovel and rakes
To combine the new wetlands,
Where water dig large holes like tombs.
And who knows if the new flowers I dream
Find this washed soil as a strike
The mystical food that would force them?
- O grief! O pain! Time eats life
And the hidden Enemy who gnaws our heart
The blood we lose grows and strengthens! Page 36

XI. - The Guignon

To lift a heavy weight,
Sisyphus, should your courage!
Although the heart has to work,
Art is long and time is short.
Near the famous graves,

To an isolated cemetery,
My heart like a muffled drum,
Goes beating funeral marches.
- Maint sleeps buried treasure
In darkness and oblivion,
Far picks and probes;
Many a flower regretfully pours
Its sweet as a secret
In deep solitudes. Page 37

XII. - The Former Life

I have long lived under the porticoes
That marine suns dyed a thousand lights,
And their pillars, straight and majestic,
Made like the evening basaltic caves.
Swells, rolling images of heaven
Mingled a solemn and mystical way
The all-powerful chords of their rich music
The colors of the sunset reflected in my eyes.
This is where I lived in the quiet pleasures,
Amid the azure waves, splendor
And naked slaves, all impregnated with odor
Which refreshed my forehead with palm,
And whose only care was to deepen
The painful secret that kept me waiting. Page 38

XIII. - Bohemians in Travel

The prophetic tribe with glowing eyes

Yesterday was started, taking his small

On his back, or indulging their appetites proud
Always ready treasure hanging breasts.
Men will walk in their shiny weapons
Along carts where their are huddled,
Walking on the sky heavy eyes
By dull regret chimeras lacking.
From his small sandy, cricket,
Watching them pass, redoubles his song;
Cybele, who loves them, increasing its greens,
Shed the rock and the desert bloom
Before these travelers, which is open
The familiar darkness of future empire. Page 39

XIV. - The Man and the Sea

Free man, you will always cherish the sea!
The sea is your mirror, you contemplate your soul
In the endless flow of his blade,
And your mind is no less bitter pit.
Do you like to dive in your image;
You kiss the eyes and arms, and your heart
Is distracted at its own rumor
At the sound of this wild and untamable complaint.
You're both dark and discreet:
Man, no one has sounded the depths of your being;
O sea, no one knows your private wealth
Because you are jealous to keep your secrets!
Yet for countless centuries

You fight without mercy or remorse

So you like the carnage and death,
O eternal fighters, implacable O brothers! Page 40

XV. - Don Juan in Hell

When Don Juan went down to the ground wave
And when he had given his alms to Charon,
A dark beggar, the proud eye as Antisthenes
With a strong arm and avenging the oar.
Showing their pendulous breasts and robes,
Women writhed in the black sky,
And, as a large herd of victims offered,
Dragging behind him a long roar.
SGANARELLE laughing demanded his wages,
While Don Luis with a trembling finger
Showed all the dead who lined
The bold son who mocked his white forehead.
Shivering in his grief, chaste Elvira,
Near the traitor spouse who was his lover,
Seemed to demand a supreme smile
Where shone the sweetness of his first oath.
Straight into his armor, a great man of stone
Stood at the bar and cut the black stream;
But the quiet hero, leaning on his sword,
Watching the wake and deigned to see anything. Page 41

XVI. - Punishment of pride

In those wonderful days when the Theology

Flowers with more sap and energy

One day a doctor tells a larger,
- After forcing the indifferent hearts;
Having stirred in their black depths;
After crossing to the celestial glories
Singular in itself unknown paths,
Where only pure spirits perhaps came,
- As a man riding too high, panicked,
Cried, carried a satanic pride:
"Jesus, baby Jesus! I pushed you up high!
But if I wanted to attack you default
Of armor, your shame would equal your glory
And you would not be a fetus ridiculous! "
Immediately his reason went.
The brightness of the sun was veiled with crape
Rolled all the chaos in this intelligence, Page 42

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42
Temple once alive, full of order and opulence,
Under the ceiling where both pump had him.
The silence and the night settled in him,
As in a vault whose key is lost.
Therefore it was like the beasts of the street,
And when he went without seeing anything through
Fields without distinguishing summers winters,
Dirty, useless and ugly as a worn thing,
He made children the joy and laughter

XVII. - The Beauty

I am beautiful, O mortals! like a dream stone
And my breast, where everyone is bruised in turn,
Is to inspire the poet a love
Eternal and silent as matter.
I sit in the sky, a mysterious sphinx;
I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans;
I hate the movement that moves the lines
And I never cry and I never laugh.
Poets, before my great attitudes,
I seem to borrow the proudest monuments,
Consume their lives in austere study;
Because I have to fascinate these docile lovers
Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my eyes wide with eternal brightness! Page 44

XVIII. - The Ideal

It will never be these beauties thumbnails
Damaged goods, a born rascal century
These boots feet, fingers to castanets,
That will satisfy a heart like mine.
I leave Gavarni poet of chlorosis,
His flock of twittering beauties hospital
Because I can not find among these pale roses
A flower that looks like my ideal red.
It takes to heart as a deep abyss,
It is you, Lady Macbeth, powerful soul to crime
Dream of Aeschylus hatched climate tempests;

Or you, great Night, daughter of Michelangelo

Tors who peacefully in a strange pose
Your charms shaped the mouths of the Titans! Page 45

XIX. - The Giant

Time that Nature in its powerful verve
Conceived children daily monstrous
I would have liked to live with a young giant,
As the feet of a queen voluptuous cat.
I would have liked to see her body bloom with his soul
And grow freely in his terrible games;
Guess if her heart smoldering flame dark
The wet mists swimming in her eyes;
Browse at leisure its beautiful forms;
Crawling on his knees pouring enormous
And sometimes in the summer when unhealthy suns
Lasse, make it spread across the country,
Sleeping lazily in the shade of her breasts,
As a quiet hamlet at the foot of a mountain. Page 46

XX. - The Mask

Allegorical statue in the style of the Renaissance
A Ernest Christophe, statuary.
Contemplate this Florentine treasure of grace;
In the ripple of the muscular body
The Elegance and Strength abound divine sisters.
This woman truly miraculous piece,
Divinely robust adorably thin

Is made to be enthroned on plush beds

Leisure and charm of a priest or a prince.
- Also, see this end and voluptuous mice
Where Fatuit walking her ecstasy;
This long look sneaky, mocking and languorous;
This mignard face, all framed gauze
Which each line tells us with a triumphant air:
"The Pleasure calls me and Love me crown! "
To that being endowed with so much majesty
See what exciting charm gives kindness!
Approach and turn around its beauty. Page 47

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47
O blasphemy art! O fatal surprise!
The woman in the divine body, promising happiness,
The top ends in two-headed monster!
- But no! this is only a mask, a setting
[Seducers
This face lit with an exquisite grimace,
And, look, here, excruciatingly tense,
The real head, and the sincere face
Reversed away from the face that lies.
Large poor beauty! the beautiful river
Results of your tears in my anxious heart;
Your lie intoxicates me, and my soul is watered
The waves that the pain brings out your eyes!
- Why does it cry? Her perfect beauty,

Who would put his feet mankind defeated,

What harm mysterious gnaws his side athlete?
- She cries, foolish, because she lived!
And because she lives! But she regrets
Above all, what makes her shudder knee,
Is that tomorrow, alas! it will live again!
Tomorrow, tomorrow and forever! - Like us! Page 48

XXI. - Hymn to Beauty

Do you come from the deep sky or did you get out of the abyss,
O Beauty? your gaze, infernal and divine,
Pours blended blessing and Crime
And can you compare it to the wine.
You hold in your eyes the sunset and the dawn;
You scatter perfumes like a stormy night;
Your kisses are a philtre and your mouth an amphora
Who are the hero and coward brave child.
Did you get the black abyss or down-the stars?
Fate charmed follows your skirts like a dog;
You sow random joy and disasters,
And you rule everything and answer anything.
You walk on dead Beauty which you kidding;
Of your jewels Horror is not the least charming,
And Murder, among your dearest trinkets,
Upon thy belly dance lovingly proud. Page 49

The dazzled flies towards you, candle,

Crackling flames and says: bless this torch!

The panting lover tilted on its beautiful

Looks a moribund stroking his tomb.
Whether you come from heaven or hell, whatever,
O Beauty! huge monster, scary, naive!
If your eyes, your smile, your foot, open the door
On the Infinity I love and have never known?
Satan or God, whatever? Angel or Siren
Whatever, if you make - fairy with velvet eyes,
Rhythm, fragrance, glow, my single queen! The universe less hideous and lighter moments? Page 50

XXII. - Exotic Perfume

When both eyes closed, in a warm autumn evening,
I breathe the smell of your warm breast
I see happy shores unfold
Qu'blouissent fires a monotonous sun;
A lazy island where nature gives
Singular and tasty fruit trees;
Men whose body is thin and strong,
And women whose eye with startling candor.
Guided by your fragrance to these charming climates
I see a port filled with sails and masts
Still completely exhausted by the waves of the sea,
While the scent of green tamarind,
Circulating in the air and swells my nostrils,
Mingled in my soul singing sailors. Page 51

XXIII. - The Coma

O fleece fleecy onto the neck!

O rings! A fragrance that nonchalance!
Ecstasy! To populate the dark alcove tonight
Memories sleeping in the hair
I want to wave it in the air like a handkerchief!
The languid Asia and Africa burning,
While a distant world, absent, almost dead,
Lives in your depths, aromatic forest!
Like other spirits sail on music
Mine, my love! swims on your perfume.
I go there where the tree and man, full of sap,
To swoon in the heat of the climate;
Strong braids are swell that takes me!
You contain, ebony sea, a dazzling dream
Sails, oars, flames and masts: Page 52

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52
A resounding port where my soul can drink
A great waves fragrance, sound and color
Where vessels, slipping in gold and in memory
Open their arms wide to embrace the glory
On a clear sky where shuddered eternal heat.
I plunge my head in love with drunkenness
In this black ocean where the other is locked;
And my mind that subtle caress roll
Will find you, O fruitful laziness
Infinite rocking leisure embalmed!

Blue hair, house of darkness stretched

You make me the blue sky and huge round;
The downy edges of your twisted locks
I eagerly drunk mingled odors
Of coconut oil, musk and tar.
Long! always! my hand in your heavy mane
Sow ruby, pearl and sapphire,
So that my desire you will never be dull!
Do you not the oasis where I dream, and gourd
I inhale deep drafts of wine memory? Page 53

XXIV
I adore the equal of the vault of night,
O vase of sadness, O great taciturn
And love you even more beautiful, that you flee me
And you seem to me, ornament of my nights,
More ironically accumulate miles
That separate my arms from the blue immensity.
I advance to the attack, and I climb the attacks,
As a corpse after a chorus of worms,
And I cherish, O mercilessly cruel beast!
Until this cold where you are more beautiful to me!
XXV
You would put the whole world in your lane
Impure woman! Boredom makes your soul cruel.
To exercise your teeth in this unique game
Every day you need a heart to the rack.
Your eyes lit up as well as shops

And blazing yew in public holidays,

Insolently wear a borrowed power
Without ever knowing the law of their beauty.
Blind and deaf machine in cruelty fruitful!
Salutary instrument, blood drinker in the world,
How do you not ashamed, and how do you not
Before all the mirrors seen fade your charms?
The greatness of this evil where you think you're clever
Do you has never been back with terror,
When nature, large in its hidden designs
Use of you, O wife, O Queen of sins,
- From you, vile animal - to knead a genius?
O muddy greatness! sublime shame! Page 55

XXVI. - Sed non satiata

Bizarre deity, dark as night,
In mixed musk perfume and tan,
Work of some obi, the Faust of the savanna,
Witch ebony flank, child black midnights,
I prefer to persevere, opium at night,
The elixir of your mouth where love struts;
When my wishes go to you in a caravan
Your eyes are the cistern where my troubles drink.
These two large black eyes, vents of your soul,
O pitiless demon! pays me less flame;
I'm not kissing you Styx nine times
Alas! and I can not, Shrew libertine,
To break your spirit and put you at bay,

In the hell of your bed become Proserpine! Page 56

XXVII
With its undulating and pearly clothes
Even when she walks she might actually dance
As these long snakes as sacred jugglers
After waving their sticks rhythmically.
As dreary sand and azure deserts,
Both insensitive to human suffering,
As long networks swell of the sea,
It grows with indifference.
His eyes are made of polished charming minerals
And in this strange and symbolic
The angel inviolate blends the ancient sphinx,
Where everything is not as gold, steel, light and diamonds
Never shines like a useless star,
The majesty of the cold barren. Page 57

XXVIII. - The Dancing Serpent

I like to see, dear indolent,
Your body so beautiful,
Like a flickering fabric
Shimmering skin!
On your hair deep
The acrid perfume
Odorant sea
With blue and brown waves,
As a ship wakes

In the morning wind,

My dreamy soul sets sail
For a distant sky.
Your eyes where nothing is revealed
Sweet or bitter,
Are two cold jewels where blends
Gold with iron. Page 58

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58
To see you walking in cadence
Beautiful abandonment
Looks like a snake dance
At the end of a stick.
Under the burden of your laziness
Your child's head
Sways with softness
A young elephant
And your body bends and stretches
Like a fine ship
Rolling from side to side and plunges
Its yards in the water.
As a stream swollen by melting
The rumbling glaciers,
When the water of your mouth back
At the edge of your teeth,
I think drinking a wine Bohemia
Amer and winner

Liquid sky sprinkles

In my heart stars! Page 59

XXIX. - A Carrion
Remember the object we saw, my soul,
This beautiful summer morning so sweet:
At the bend of a path a foul carrion
Sown on a bed of pebbles,
The belly up like a horny woman
Burning and sweating poisons,
Opened a nonchalant and cynical
Her belly full of fumes.
The sun shone on this decay,
As to the cook-to-point
And make a hundredfold to great Nature
Everything she had combined;
And the sky looked superb carcass
Like a flower blossom.
The stench was so strong that on the grass
You believed him feel faint. Page 60

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60
The flies buzzing round that putrid belly,
Whence came forth black battalions
Larvae, which flowed like a thick liquid
Along those living tatters.
All this was descending and rising like a wave

Or poured into sparkling

It seemed as if the body, swollen with a vague breath,
Lived by multiplication.
And this world gave a strange music
Such as running water and wind,
Or a grain winnower a rhythmic movement
Agitated and turns in his van.
Forms faded and were no longer a dream
Slow forthcoming draft
The forgotten canvas, and the artist ends
Only in memory.
Behind the rocks a bitch concerned
We watched an angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to return to the skeleton
The piece she had dropped. Page 61

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61
- And yet you will like this corruption,
At this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sun of my nature,
You, my angel and my passion!
Yes! as you will, O queen of graces,
After the last rites,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
Molder among the bones.
Then, O my beauty! tell vermin
Who will eat you with kisses,

I have kept the form and the divine essence

My decomposed love! Page 62

XXX. - De Profundis clamavi

I implore your pity you, the only thing that I love,
The bottom of the dark abyss where my heart fell.
It is a bleak world in leaden horizon,
Where to swim on the night of horror and blasphemy;
A sun without heat hovers over six months
And six months night covers the earth;
This is a country that bare earth polar
- Neither animals nor streams, or green, or wood!
But it is not horror in the world that surpasses
The cold cruelty of the sun ice
And this great night like the old Chaos;
I envy the lot of the lowest animals
Who can immerse themselves in a stupid sleep,
As the skein of time slowly unwinds! Page 63

XXXI. - The Vampire

You who, like a knife,
My plaintive heart are input;
You who, strong as a herd
Demons, came, ardent and adorned,
My humble spirit
Make your bed and your domain;
- Infamous to whom I am related
As the convict in the chain,

As the game stubborn player

As the bottle lush,
As the vermin carrion
- Cursed, cursed be thou!
I prayed the rapid sword
To win my freedom,
And I told the treacherous poison Page 64

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64
Rescue my cowardice.
Alas! poison and the sword
Took me in disdain and said:
"You're not deserve to be freed
In your accursed slavery,
Fool! - Of his empire
If our efforts deliver you,
Your kisses resuscitate
The body of your vampire! " Page 65

XXXII
One night I was almost a terrible Jewish
As a corpse throughout an extended body,
I began to think about the body sold
A sad beauty that my desire is deprived.
I pictured her native majesty,
His look of force and armed graces
Her hair that make it a fragrant helmet

And the memory of love revives for me.

Because I had fervently kissed your noble body,
And since your feet cool up your black tresses
Place the treasure deep caresses,
If a night of crying obtained effortlessly
You could just, oh queen of cruel!
Obscure the splendor of your cold eyes. Page 66

XXXIII. - Posthumous Remorse

When you sleep, my beautiful dark,
At the bottom of a monument built in black marble,
And when you do get to alcove and manor
A wet cellar and a hollow pit;
When the stone, oppressing your chest fearful
And your flanks qu'assouplit a charming nonchalance,
Prevent your heart beat and wanting,
And your feet running their adventurous race
The tomb, confidant of my infinite dreams
(For the tomb always include the poet)
During those great nights where the sum is banned,
You say: "What doth it, imperfect courtesan,
Not to have known that mourn the dead? "
- And to gnaw your skin like a remorse. Page 67

XXXIV. - The Cat

Come, my beautiful cat, love of my heart;
Retains your claws,
And let me gaze into your beautiful eyes,

Mixed metal and agate.

When my fingers leisurely caress
Your head and your elastic back,
And my hand tingles of pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,
I see my wife in mind. His eyes,
Like yours, amiable beast,
Deep and cold cuts and splits like a dart,
And for how long from head to toe,
A subtle air, a dangerous perfume
Swim around her brown body. Page 68

XXXV. - Duellum
Two warriors ran one on the other, their weapons
Splashed air glow and blood.
These games, the rattling of iron are the din
In youth experiencing love wailing.
The swords are broken! as our youth,
My dear! But teeth, sharp claws,
Soon avenge the treacherous sword and dagger.
- A fury of mature hearts embittered by love!
In the ravine haunted cats-pards and ounces
Our hero, hugging wickedly, rolled,
And skin blossom aridity brambles.
- This abyss is hell, peopled by our friends!
Ride ahead without remorse, inhuman Amazon,
To perpetuate the ardor of our hatred! Page 69

XXXVI. - The Balcony

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O you, all my pleasures! O you, all my homework!
You will remember the beauty of caresses,
Home Sweet Home and the charm of the night,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!
Night illuminated by hard coal,
And evenings on the balcony, veiled pink vapors.
That your bosom was sweet to me! that your heart was good to me!
We have often said imperishable things
Night illuminated by hard coal.
That Scents warm evenings!
Space is deep! the heart is powerful!
Leaning on you, beloved queen,
I thought I breathed the scent of your blood.
That Scents warm evenings! Page 70

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70
The night would thicken a partition,
And my eyes in the dark guessed your eyes,
And I drank your breath, O sweetness! O poison!
And your feet fell asleep in my hands fraternal.
The night thickened like a wall.
I know the art of evoking happy moments,
And saw my past tucked into your lap.
For what is get your languorous beauty
Elsewhere in your dear body and your heart so sweet?

I know the art of evoking happy moments!

These vows, these perfumes, kisses infinite,
They will be reborn a gulf we may probes
As rise to heaven suns rejuvenated
After being washed to the bottom of deep seas?
- O oaths! O flavors! O infinite kisses! Page 71

XXXVII. - The Possessed

The sun is covered with a veil. Like him,
O Moon of my life! bundle up yourself shadow
Sleep or smoke your will: be silent, be dark,
And plunges the entire gulf of Boredom;
I love you so! However, if you want today
As an eclipsed star comes out of the shadows,
You strut to the places Madness smoothly,
This is good! Charming dagger, sprung from your case!
Light up your eyes to the flame chandeliers!
Turns desire in the eyes of the peasants!
Everything about you is a pleasure, morbid or petulant;
Be what you want, black, red dawn night;
It is not a fiber in my body trembling
Who would cry: O my dear Beelzebub, I adore you! Page 72

XXXVIII. - A Ghost
I. - The Darkness
In the vaults of unfathomable sadness
Where Fate has relegated me;
Where never between a pink and gay radius;

Where, alone with the Night, sullen hostess

I'm like a painter than mocking God
Condemns to paint, alas the darkness;
Where, cook appetites funeral,
I boil and eat my heart,
By shining moments, and grows, and spreads
A specter is grace and splendor.
At its eastern dreamy look,
When it reaches its full size,
I acknowledge my beautiful visitor:
This is It! black and yet light.
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73
II. - Perfume
Reader, do you sometimes breathed
With drunkenness and gluttony slow
This grain of incense filled the church,
Or bag the inveterate musk?
Deep spell, which we gray
In this past restored!
And the lover of a beloved body
Memorial pluck the exquisite flower.
Its elastic and heavy hair,
Living sachet, censer of the alcove,
A rose scent, and wild beast,
And clothes, chiffon or velvet,
Imbued with its pure youth,
Emanated a scent of fur.

III. - The Framework

As a beautiful setting adds to the painting,
Although a brush very boasted
I do not know what strange and enchanted
By isolating the immense nature, Page 74

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74
And jewelry, furniture, metal, foil,
Just adapting to its rare beauty;
Nothing offended his perfect clarity
And everything seemed to be his edge.
Even we sometimes had said she believed
That all wanted love, she drowned
Her nakedness voluptuously
Kissing in satin and linen,
And, slow or sudden, every movement
Showed the child with the monkey.
IV. - The Portrait
Disease and death are ash
Any fire that blazed for us.
These eyes so fervent and tender,
This mouth where my heart was drowned,
These powerful kisses like a balm,
Strongest of these rays that transport
What else is there? It's awful, O my soul!
Just a drawing very pale, in three colors, Page 75

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Who, like me, die in solitude
And Time, abusive old man
Every day rubbed with his rough wing ...
Black assassin of Life and Art
You never kill in my memory
She who was my pleasure and my honor! Page 76

XXXIX
I give you these verses so that if my name
Fortunately addresses at times distant
And is a dream one night human brains,
Vessel favored by a large north wind,
Your memory, like the fables uncertain
Fatigue and a dulcimer player,
And a fraternal mystical link
Remains as hanging from my lofty rhyme;
Cursed be that the deep abyss
To the highest heaven, nothing but myself, no one answers!
- O you who like a shadow to the ephemeral trace
Crowds with a light foot and a serene look
Foolish mortals who judged you bitter
Statue with jet-black eyes, large forehead brazen angel! Page 77

XL. - Semper Eadem

"Where did you get, you said, this strange sadness,
Amount as the sea on the black and bare rock? "

- When our heart has once his harvest

Living is hard. It is an open secret known
A very simple and not mysterious pain
And as your joy, brilliant for all.
So stop looking, oh beautiful curious!
And though your voice is sweet, shut up!
Shut up, you ignorant! soul always happy!
Mouth childish laugh! , Still more than the Life
Death often takes us by subtle links.
Let, let my heart get drunk a lie,
Dive into your eyes like a beautiful dream
And long slumber in the shade of your lashes! Page 78

XLI. - Entirely
The Devil in my upper chamber
This morning came to see me,
And trying to take my fault
Said: "I want to know
Among all the beautiful things
Which has made its enchantment,
Among the objects or black roses
That make her charming body
What is the sweetest. "- O my soul!
You replied to Abhorred:
"Since, it's all dictame
Nothing can be preferred.
When all delights me, I do not know
If something appeals to me.

It dazzles as Dawn
And console like the Night; Page 79

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And harmony is too exquisite,
Which governs all her beautiful body,
For the powerless analysis
Note the many agreements.
O mystic metamorphosis
All my senses merged into one!
Her breath is music,
As his voice makes perfume! " Page 80

XLII
What will you say tonight, poor lonely soul,
What say you, my heart, once withered heart,
At the beautiful, the good, the dearest,
Whose divine glance you suddenly bloomed?
- We put our pride to sing its praises:
Nothing beats the softness of its authority;
Her spiritual flesh has the scent of angels
And his eye takes us to a clear coat.
Whether in the night and in solitude,
Whether in the street and in the multitude
His ghost dance in the air like a torch.
Sometimes he speaks and says, "I am beautiful, and I order
For the love of me you did not love the Beautiful;

I am the Guardian Angel, the Muse and Madonna. " Page 81

XLIII. - The Living Torch

They walk before me, these Eyes full of lights,
Angel was a very learned probably magnetized;
They walk, these divine brothers who are my brethren,
Shaking in my eyes their diamond ring.
Saving me any trap and any serious sin
They lead my steps in the road to Nice;
They are my servants, and I am their slave;
My whole being follows the torch alive.
Lovely eyes, you shine the mystical clarity
What burning candles in broad daylight, the sun
Blushed, but not off their fantastic flame;
They celebrate death, you sing the clock;
You walk by singing the awakening of my soul,
Stars with no sun can wilt flame! Page 82

XLIV. - Reversible
Angel full of gaiety, do you know the anguish,
Shame, remorse, tears, trouble,
And the vague terrors of those awful nights
Which compress the heart like a crumpled paper that?
Angel full of gaiety, do you know the anguish?
Angel full of kindness, you know hatred,
Fists clenched in the shadows and tears of gall,
When Vengeance beats her hellish reminder
And our faculty is the captain?

Angel full of kindness, hatred do you know?

Angel full of health, you know Fevers,
That, along the high walls of the hospital pale,
As exiles are going to walk a straggler,
Seeking the rare and moving his lips sun?
Angel full of health, fevers do you know? Page 83

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Angel of beauty, do you wrinkles
And the fear of aging, and that hideous torment
Read the secret horror of dedication
In eyes where once adored eager eyes!
Angel full of beauty, wrinkles do you know?
Angel full of happiness, joy and light,
David dying had asked health
Fumes of your body enchanted
But I implore you, angel, that your prayers,
Angel full of happiness, joy and light! Page 84

XLV. - Confession
Once, one, kind and gentle woman,
In my arms your arms polished
Leaned (in the dark depths of my soul
This memory is never faded);
It was late and a new medal
The full moon spread,
And solemnity of the night, like a river,

Paris sleeping on streaming.

And the houses, in doorways,
Cats passed furtively
The ears open, or as expensive shadows
We accompanied slowly.
Suddenly, in the middle of the free privacy
Hatched in the pale light
You rich and sonorous instrument which does not vibrate
The radiant joy, Page 85

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You, clear and joyful as a fanfare
In the sparkling morning
A plaintive note, a strange notes
Escaped, staggered
As a sickly child, horrible, dark, foul,
Which his family blush,
And she would long to hide in the world,
In a secret cellar.
Poor angel, she was singing, screaming your rating:
"That nothing in this world is certain,
And as always, with some care that paints itself,
Betrays human selfishness;
It is a hard job of being beautiful woman,
And that the mundane work
The crazy cold dancer who swoons
In his mechanical smile;

That build on the core is a foolish thing;

That any cracks, love and beauty,
Until Oblivion throws in the hood
To get to Eternity! " Page 86

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I have often mentioned this enchanted moon,
This silence and languor
And this horrible secret whisper
At the heart of the confessional.
XLVI. - Spiritual Dawn
When dawn in white and crimson profligate
Among society Ideal rodent
By the operation of a vengeful mystery
In gross asleep an angel wakes.
Of the inaccessible Spiritual Heavens Azure
For the man who struck again and dream suffers
Opens and sinks with the attraction of the abyss.
So, dear Goddess, Being lucid and pure,
The smoky debris stupid orgies
Your memory clearer, more pink, more charming,
In my eyes wide aerobatics shortly.
The sun has blackened flame candles;
Thus, always victorious, your ghost is the same,
Soul resplendent with immortal sun! Page 88

XLVII. - Evening Harmony

Here comes the time when vibrating on its stem

Each flower evaporates and a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languorous vertigo!
Each flower evaporates and a censer;
The violin quivers like a tormented heart;
Melancholy waltz and languorous vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an altar.
The violin quivers like a tormented heart,
A tender heart that hates the vast, black nothingness!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an altar;
The sun has drowned in his blood freezes.
A tender heart that hates the vast, black void
The luminous past collects every vestige!
The sun has drowned in his blood which congeals ...
Your memory in me glitters like a monstrance! Page 89

XLVIII. - The Bottle

It is strong fragrances that any material
Is porous. Looks like they penetrate glass.
Opening a box came from the East
Whose lock creaks and reluctant screaming,
Or to an empty house a cabinet
Filled with the acrid smell of time, and black powder,
Sometimes there is an old bottle which remembers
Where springs all live a returning soul.
Thousand thoughts slept pupae funeral,
Simmering gently in the heavy darkness,

That generate their wing and take flight,

Tinged with blue, glossy pink, gold lame.
Intoxicating Remember that flutters
In the troubled air, eyes closed, Vertigo
Captures the vanquished soul and pushes both hands
Towards an abyss of human miasma obscured; Page 90

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II the terrace by a secular abyss
Where stinking Lazarus tearing his shroud,
Moves in its wake the spectral corpse
From an old rancid love, charming and sepulchral.
So when I'm lost in the memory
Men in the corner of a cabinet disaster
When we have thrown me, sorry old bottle
Decrepit, dusty, dirty, despicable, slimy, cracked,
I'll be your coffin, kind pestilence!
Witnessed your strength and your virulence,
Dear poison prepared by the angels! liquor
Gnawing me, O life and death of my heart! Page 91

XLIX. - The Poison

The wine is known to coat the dirtiest moves
In a miraculous luxury
And gives rise to more than one fabulous portal
In the gold of its red steam
Like a sun in a cloudy sky.

Opium magnifies that has no terminals

Lengthens the unlimited,
Deepens the time hollow pleasure,
And black pleasures and dreary
Fills the soul beyond its capacity.
All this is not worth the poison that flows
Your eyes, your green eyes,
Lakes where my soul trembles and sees upside ...
My dreams come in crowds
To drink these bitter gulfs. Page 92

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All this is not worth the terrible prodigy
Of your saliva bites,
Plunging into oblivion my soul without remorse,
Carting and dizziness,
The rolling banks of failing to death! Page 93

L. - Blurred sky
Looks like your look a covered steam;
Your eye mysterious (is it blue, gray or green?)
Alternately tender, dreamy, cruel,
Reflects indolence and pale sky.
You remember those white, veiled and warm days
That make hearts melt in tears bewitched
When agitated by an unknown evil that twists,
Nerves too awake taunt the sleeping mind.

You sometimes look like these beautiful backgrounds

That the sun misty seasons ...
As you shine, wet landscape
Aflame rays falling from a blurred sky!
A dangerous woman, O attractive climates!
I also adore your snow and your frost,
And I shall take the relentless winter
Pleasures sharper than ice and iron? Page 94

LI. - The Cat

I
In my mind wanders,
And in his apartment,
A beautiful cat, strong, sweet and charming.
When he meows, we hardly hear,
His tone is so soft and discreet;
But his voice soothes and scolds
It is always rich and deep.
This is its charm and secret.
This voice, pearl and filters
My most shadowy funds
Fills me as to many
And forward like a potion.
She sleeps most cruel pain
And contains all the ecstasies;
To say the longer sentences,
She did not need words. Page 95

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No, he does not bow to bite
On my heart, perfect instrument
And do more royally
Sing his most vibrating wire
Let your voice, mysterious cat,
Seraphic cat, strange cat,
In which everything is, as an angel,
As subtle as harmonious!
II
Its light and dark fur
Out a sweet perfume, one evening
I was embalmed to have
Caressed once, just one.
This is the familiar spirit of the place;
It judge presides, he inspires
All things in his empire;
Perhaps he fairy god is it?
When my eyes to this cat that I love
Drawn like a magnet,
To return obediently
And as I look myself Page 96

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96
I am astonished to see
The fire in his pale eyes,

Clear lanterns, living opals

Me fixedly contemplating
LII. - The Beautiful Ship
I want to tell you, O soft enchanting!
The beauties that adorn your youth;
I want to describe your beauty
Which combines childhood to maturity.
When you're scanning the air off your skirt,
You get the impression of a beautiful ship that takes off,
Full sail and goes rolling
In a soft and lazy, and slow rhythm.
Wide and round on your neck, your shoulders fat,
Your head struts with strange grace;
On a placid and triumphant
You go your way, majestic child.
I want to tell you, O soft enchanting!
The beauties that adorn your youth;
I want to describe your beauty
Which combines childhood to maturity.
Your throat that advance and push the memory,
Your throat is a beautiful cabinet triumphant
Whose curved and clear panels
As shields hang lightning; Page 98

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98
Shields defiant armed with pink tips!
Cabinet sweet secrets, full of good things,

Wines, perfumes, liquors

Who would rave brains and hearts!
When you're scanning the air off your skirt,
You get the impression of a beautiful ship that takes off,
Full sail and goes rolling
In a soft and lazy, and slow rhythm.
Your noble legs under the wheels they hunt,
Torment and tease the dark desires
As two witches who
Turn a black potion in deep mud.
Your arms, which play early hercules
Glistening boas are worthy rivals,
Made to tighten stubbornly
As for print in your heart, your lover.
Wide and round on your neck, your shoulders fat,
Your head struts with strange grace;
On a placid and triumphant
You go your way, majestic child. Page 99

LIII. - L'Invitation au voyage

My child, my sister,
Think of the rapture
To go there
live together!
Love at leisure,
Love and death
In countries like you!
Wet suns

These scrambled skies

For my spirit the charms
So mysterious
Of your treacherous eyes,
Shining through their tears.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
Gleaming furniture,
Polished by years
Ornament our bedroom;
The rarest flowers
Mingling their odors Page 100

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The faint scent of amber,
The rich ceilings,
Deep mirrors,
The oriental splendor,
Everything speak
A soul in secret
Its sweet native language.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
See on the canals
Sleep these vessels
Whose mood is wandering;
This is to satisfy

Your slightest desire

They come from the ends of the world.
The sunsets
Clothe the fields,
The canals, the whole city,
In hyacinth and gold;
The world is asleep
In warm light.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness. Page 101

LIV. - The Irreparable

Can we suppress the old, long Remorse
That lives, moves and twists,
And feeds us as the dead worm,
As the caterpillar of the oak?
Can we stifle relentless Remorse?
What potion, what wine, what herbal tea,
Drown us that old enemy,
Destructive and greedy as the courtesan,
Patient as the ant?
What potion? - What wine? - How
[Tea?
Say, beautiful witch, oh! say, if you know,
In this spirit filled with anguish
And like the dying crushed beneath the wounded,
That the horse's hoof crumples
Say, beautiful witch, oh! say, if you know, Page 102

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In this agony that the wolf already scents
And monitors the raven,
At this broken soldier! whether he despairs
Having his cross and his tomb;
This poor agony that the wolf already scents!
Can you illuminate a murky black sky?
Can rip darkness
Denser than the pitch, without morning or evening
No stars, no lightning funeral?
Can you illuminate a murky black sky?
Hope that shines in the windows of the inn
Is blown dead forever!
Moonless, rays, where we find hosts
The martyrs of a bad way!
The devil has all the tiles off the Inn!
Adorable witch, do you love the damned?
Say, do you know the unforgivable?
Do you know Remorse, with poisoned arrows,
A heart that is our target?
Adorable witch, do you love the damned? Page 103

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The Irreparable gnaws with his cursed tooth
Our soul, pitiful monument

And often attack and the termite,

The base construction.
The Irreparable gnaws with his cursed teeth!
- I saw some at the bottom of an ordinary theater
Inflamed by the sound orchestra
A fairy light in an infernal sky
A miraculous dawn;
I saw some at the bottom of an ordinary theater
A being who was only light, gold and gauze
Defeat the huge Satan;
But my heart that never visit ecstasy
Is a theater where one expects
Always, always in vain, Being with gossamer wings!
LV. - Chat
You are a beautiful autumn sky, clear and pink!
But the sadness in me rises like the sea,
And leaves in refluxing on my lips morose
The bitter memory of his bitter silt.
- Your hand slips in vain upon my breast swoons;
What it seeks, friend, is a place ransacked
The claw and tooth fierce woman.
Look no further my heart beasts have eaten.
My heart is blighted by the palace crowd;
We are drunk, we will kill them, it is done to the hair!
- A perfume swims around your throat ... naked!
O Beauty, hard scourge of souls, you want it!
With your eyes of fire, bright as holidays,
Calcined these shreds What saved the animals! Page 105

LVI. - Chant d'automne

I
Soon we plunge into the cold darkness;
Farewell, vivid brightness of our too short summers!
I hear fall with funeral shock
The resounding wood on the pavement courses.
All winter will be back in my anger,
Hatred, chills, horror, hard work and forced
And as the sun in its polar hell
My heart is no longer a frozen red block.
I listen shuddering each falling log;
The scaffold that builds no more dull echo.
My mind is like a tower unsuccessful
Under the blows of the ram tireless and heavy.
It seems to me, listening to the monotonous shock
Let nails in great haste a coffin somewhere.
For whom? - Yesterday was summer, autumn here!
This mysterious noise sounds like a start. Page 106

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106
II
I love your eyes long greenish light,
Sweet beauty, but today is me bitter,
And nothing, neither your love nor the boudoir or the hearth,
Do I owe the sunlight on the sea
Yet like me, tender heart! be a mother,

Even for an ungrateful, even for a villain;

Lover or sister, be the fleeting sweetness
On a glorious autumn or sunset.
Short task! The tomb waiting - she is hungry!
Ah! let me put my head on your lap,
Tasting, regretting the white, torrid summer,
Rear-season yellow and soft radius! Page 107

LVII. - At a Madonna
Ex-voto in the Spanish taste
I want to build for you, Madonna, my mistress,
An underground altar in the depths of my distress
And dig into the darkest corner of my heart,
Far from worldly desires and mocking glance
A niche, azure and gold all enamelled
Where thou rear up, Statue amazed.
Go with my polished lattice of a pure metal
Expertly studded rhymes crystal
I will do to your head a huge crown;
And my jealousy, O mortal Madonna,
I know you cut a coat, so
Barbarian, stiff and heavy, and lined with suspicion,
Which, like a sentry, shut up your charms,
Not Beads embroidered, but all my tears!
Your dress will be my Desire, quivering,
Wavy, my Desire up and down,
The tips to balance the valleys rests,
And coated with a white and pink kiss your whole body.

I'll do my best Respect Shoes Page 108

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Satin, by your divine feet humiliated
That the trapping in a soft embrace,
As a faithful mold keep the footprint.
If I can not, despite all my diligent art
Step to carve a silver moon,
I put the snake biting my insides
Under your heels, so you trample and mock,
Successful and fruitful in redemptions Queen
This all swollen monster of hatred and spitting.
You'll see my thoughts, arranged like Candles
Before the altar ornate Queen of Virgins,
Etoilant reflections of the ceiling painted blue,
You always look with eyes of fire;
And like everything in me loves you and admires you,
Everything will Benzoin, Frankincense, Frankincense, Myrrh,
And constantly to you, white and snowy summit
Fumes rise in my spirit stormy.
Finally, to complete your role of Mary,
And to mix love with barbarism,
Black pleasure! the seven deadly sins,
Executioner remorseful, I'll September Knives
Well sharpened, and as an insensitive juggler
Taking your deepest love for target
I will plant them all in your panting Heart,

In your sobbing Heart, in your Heart dripping! Page 109

LVIII. - Song of the afternoon

Although your eyebrows bad
Give you a strange look
Which is not that of an angel,
Witch enticing eyes,
I adore you, O my frivolous,
My terrible passion!
With devotion
The priest to his idol.
The desert and forest
Embalm your tresses harsh,
Your head attitudes
The mystery and secrecy.
On your flesh perfume prowls
As around a censer;
You charms as the evening
Nymph dark and hot.
Ah! the strongest potions
Not worth your laziness,
And you know the caress
Who revives the dead! Page 110

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110
Your hips are in love
Your back and your breasts,

And you excited cushions

For your languorous poses.
Sometimes, to appease
Your mysterious rage
You lavish, serious,
The bite and kiss;
You rock me, my brown
With a mocking laugh,
And then you put on my heart
Your gentle eyes like the moon.
Under your satin shoes
Under your beautiful feet of silk,
I put my great joy,
My genius and my destiny
You healed my soul,
For you, light and color!
Explosion heat
In my black Siberia!
LIX. - Sisina
Imagine Diane gallant crew
Walking through forests or thickets beating,
Hair and throat wind noise is intoxicating,
Beautiful and challenging the best riders!
Have you seen Theroigne lover of carnage,
Exciting to attack a people without shoes,
Cheek and eyes blazing, playing his character,
Amount and, sword in hand, the royal stairs?
Such as Sisina! But the gentle warrior

A charitable soul as well as deadly;

His courage, panic powder and drums,
Before pleading knows lay down their arms,
And his heart, ravaged by fire, always,
Who shows himself worthy, a reservoir of tears. Page 112

LX. - Franciscae Meae Lauds

Novis you cantabo Chordis,
O novelletum quod ludis
In Solitude cordis.
Esto crimped implicata,
O femina delicata
Per quam solvuntur peccata!
Sicut beneficum Lethe
Hauriam oscula te
Qu imbuta are magnete.
Quum vitiorum Tempestas
Turbabat omnes Semitic,
Apparuisti, Deitas,
Velut stella salutaris
In naufragiis amaris ... Page 113

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Suspendam horn holsters aris!
Piscina virtutis plena,
Fons AETERNAE juventutis
Labris vocem redde mutis!

Quod erat spurcum, cremasti;

Quod rudius, exquasti;
Quod debile, confirmasti.
In taberna mea fame,
In nocte mea lucerna,
Rect me semper Guberna.
Adde nunc viribus vires,
Dulce balneum suavibus
Unguentatum odoribus!
Meos circa lumbos mica,
O castitatis lorica,
Aqua tincta Seraphica;
Patera Gemmis Coruscant,
Panis salsus, mollis esca,
Divinum vinum, Francisca! Page 114

LXI. - A Creole lady

The fragrant country caressed by the sun,
I knew, all under a canopy of crimson trees
And palm trees where it rains on the eyes laziness,
Creole lady's charms ignored.
Her skin is pale and warm; brown enchanting
At the neck of the air nobly mannered;
Tall and slender walking like a huntress
Her smile is quiet and his eyes covered.
If you go, Ma'am, the true land of glory
On the banks of the Seine or the green Loire
Beautiful fit to adorn the ancient manors,

You would, out of shady retreats,

Thousand sonnets in the heart of poets,
That would make your eyes more than your subject
[Blacks. Page 115

LXII. - Moesta and errabunda

Tell me your heart sometimes he flies, Agathe
Far from the black ocean of filthy city
To another ocean where the splendor bursts
Blue, clear, deep, and virginity?
Tell me your heart sometimes he flies, Agathe?
The sea, the vast sea, console our labors!
What demon with sea hoarse singer
Accompanies the huge organ grunts winds
This sublime lullaby?
The sea, the vast sea, console our labors!
Take me, wagon! takes me, Commander!
Far! far! Here the mud is made of our tears!
- Is it true that sometimes the sad heart of Agathe
Says: Far from remorse, crime, pain,
Take me, train, takes me, Commander? Page 116

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116
As you are away, perfumed paradise
Where under a clear blue sky there is only love and joy,
Where everything we love is worthy of being loved,
Where in the pure pleasure the heart drowns!

As you are away, perfumed paradise!

But the green paradise of childish loves,
Races, songs, kisses, bouquets,
The vibrant violins behind the hills,
With jugs of wine in the evening in the woods,
- But the green paradise of childish loves,
The innocent paradise full of secret pleasures,
Is it already beyond India and China?
Can we remember with plaintive cries,
And give it life again an Argentine voice
The innocent paradise full of furtive pleasures? Page 117

LXIII. - The Revenant

As the angels eye fawn,
I'll be back in your alcove
And to you slip in quietly
With the shadows of the night;
And I will give my brown
Kisses cold as the moon
And hugs Snake
Crawling around a pit.
When will the pale morning
You will find my empty place,
Where to night it will be cold.
Like other by tenderness,
About your life and your youth,
Me, I want to rule by fear. Page 118

LXIV. - Sonnet Fall

They tell me, your eyes, clear as crystal:
"For you, bizarre lover, what's my worth? "
- Be charming and quiet! My heart, everything irritates
Except the candor of the ancient animal,
Do not want to show his infernal secret you,
Lullaby whose hand with long sleep invites me
Neither the black legend written with flame.
I hate the passion and spirit hurts!
We love slowly. Love in his box,
Dark, dodger, soundtrack fatal bow.
I know the gear of his old arsenal
Crime, horror and madness! - Pale daisy O!
Like me do not you an autumn sun
O my so white, oh my so cold Marguerite? Page 119

LXV. - Sorrows of the Moon

Tonight the moon dreams more lazily;
And a beauty on many cushions,
That a careless hand and gentle caress
Before going to sleep the outline of her breasts,
On the back of the soft satin avalanches
Dying, she indulges in long swoons,
And moves his eyes on white visions
Rising into the sky like blossoms.
When sometimes on this globe, with its languor,
She lets go a furtive tear,
A pious poet, enemy of sleep,

In the palm of his hand takes the pale tear,

The iridescent opal as a fragment,
And puts it in his heart away from the eyes of the sun. Page 120

LXVI. - The Cats

Fervent lovers and austere scholars
Also like in their ripe season
Powerful and gentle cats, pride of the house,
Who like them are cautious and like them
[Sedentary.
Friends of Science and pleasure
They seek the silence and the horror of darkness;
The Erebus had taken for his gloomy steeds
If they could stoop to bondage pride.
They are thinking the noble attitudes
Lying at the bottom of the great sphinx of solitude,
That seem to fall asleep in a dream without end;
Their fertile loins are full of magic sparks
And particles of gold, and a sandy
toilent dimly their mystic eyes.
LXVII. - The Owls
Under the black yew that house,
Owls stand arranged,
And foreign gods
Darting their red eye. They meditate.
They will stand without stirring
To the melancholy hour
Where, pushing the slanting sun,

The darkness will settle.

Their attitude to the wise teaches
Need in this world that fears
The tumult and movement;
The drunken man with a shadow that passeth
Still bears the punishment
To have wanted to change places. Page 122

LXVIII. - The Pipe

I am the author of a pipe;
We see, to contemplate my mine
From Abyssinian or Cafrine,
My master is a heavy smoker.
When it is filled with pain,
I smoke like the cottage
Which prepares the kitchen
For the return of the farmer.
I hugged and I rock her soul
In the mobile network and blue
Rising from my mouth on fire,
And I drive a powerful balm
Who charm the heart and heals
From his labors his mind. Page 123

LXIX. - The Music

The music often takes me like a sea!
To my pale star,
Under a ceiling of fog or a large ether

I set sail;
Chest forward and lungs inflated
As the canvas,
I climb the back of the waves piled
That night I sail;
I feel vibrate in me all the passions
On a ship that suffers;
The good wind storm and convulsions
The immense gulf
Cradle me. At other times, calm, large mirror
My despair! Page 124

LXX. - Buried
If a heavy, dark night
A good Christian, for charity
Behind some old rubble
Bury your vaunted body
At a time when the chaste stars
Close their eyes overcharged,
The spider will make his paintings,
And the viper its small;
You'll hear all year
On your head sentenced
The wailing of wolves
And witches hungry,
The antics of lecherous old
And plots of black thieves. Page 125

LXXI. - A fantastic engraving

This singular spectrum has any toilet
Grotesquely camped on his front skeleton
A diadem awful feeling carnival.
Without spurs, whip without it slowing a horse
Ghost like him, nag apocalyptic
Drooling nostrils like an epileptic.
Through the space they both sink,
And trample infinity of hazardous shoe.
The rider casts a sword that blazes
On crowds unnamed crushes his mount,
And runs like a prince inspecting his house,
The huge and cold cemetery, without horizon,
Where lie, by the light of a white and dull sun,
The peoples of ancient and modern history. Page 126

LXXII. - Happy Death

In a land full of fat and snails
I want to dig myself a deep pit,
Where I can leisurely spread my old bones
And sleep in oblivion like a shark in the wave.
I hate wills and I hate the tombs;
Rather than beg a tear of the world,
Alive, I would rather invite the crows
A bleed all the ends of my filthy carcass.
To O! black companions earless and eyeless,
Come to see you free and happy death;
Philosophers livers, son of rot,

Through my ruin go and without remorse,

And tell me if encor some torture
For this old body without soul and death among the dead! Page 127

LXXIII. - The Cask of hatred

Hatred is the barrel pale Danades;
Vengeance distracted with red arms and strong
A beautiful rush into his empty darkness
Large buckets full of blood and tears of the dead,
The Demon makes secret holes to these depths,
Where fleeing thousand years of sweat and effort,
Even she would revive his victims,
And squeeze them resurrect their bodies.
Hatred is a drunkard at the bottom of a tavern,
Which always feels thirst born liquor
And multiply like the Hydra of Lerna.
- But the happy drinkers know their winner
And Hatred is doomed to plight
Of never being able to sleep under the table. Page 128

LXXIV. - The cracked bell

It is bittersweet for the winter nights
To listen, by the fire and smoke that throbs,
The distant memories slowly rise
At the sound of chimes singing in the mist.
Blessed the bell vigorous throat
Which, despite its age, alert and healthy,
Jette faithfully his religious art,

And an old soldier who watches the tent!

Me, my soul is flawed, and when in his troubles
She wants his songs populate the cold night air,
It often happens that his feeble voice
Seems heavy rattle of a wounded man
At the edge of a lake of blood, under a large pile of dead
And dies, without moving, in a huge effort. Page 129

LXXV. - Spleen
Pluvise, irritated against the entire city,
His urn in torrents poured cold darkness
The pale inhabitants of the neighboring cemetery
And mortality in the misty suburbs.
My cat on the floor looking for a litter
Agitated and restless her thin mangy body;
The soul of an old poet wanders into the gutter
With the sad voice of a timid ghost.
The drone laments, and smoky log
Accompanies the clock hoarse falsetto,
However in a game full of dirty perfume,
Fatal legacy of a dropsical old,
The beautiful servant heart and the queen of spades
Sinister cause of their dead love. Page 130

LXXVI. - Spleen
I have more memories than if I had a thousand years.
A large cabinet cluttered drawers balances,
Worms, love letters, lawsuits, romances,

With heavy hair rolled in receipts,

Cache fewer secrets than my brain sad.
This is a pyramid, a huge vault,
Which contains more deaths than the common grave.
- I am a cemetery abhorred the moon,
Where as remorse long worms crawl
Which always picking on my dearest dead.
I am an old boudoir full of withered roses,
Which lies just a jumble of outdated modes
Where the plaintive pastels and pale Boucher
Only breathe the smell of a bottle opening.
Nothing equals the length limping days,
When under heavy flakes of snow year Page 131

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131
The bad fruit dull incurious
Assumes the proportions of immortality.
- Now you're not, O living matter!
A granite surrounded by a vague fear,
Dozing in the bottom of a foggy Sahara
An old sphinx ignored by the careless world
Left on the card, and whose fierce temper
Sings only rays of setting sun.
LXXVII. - Spleen
I'm like the king of a rainy country,
Rich but helpless, young, yet very old,
That its tutors despising bows,

Bored with his dogs as with other animals.

Nothing can brighten or game, or hawk,
Neither her dying in front of the balcony people.
Favorite ballad grotesque clown
No longer distracts the forehead of the patient cruel;
Fleurdelis bed turns into a tomb,
And the ladies-in-waiting, for whom everything is beautiful prince,
No longer know find shameless toilet
To get a smile from this young skeleton.
The scientist who made him gold has never been
Of his being extirpate corrupt element,
And the bloodshed that the Romans come to us,
And that in their old age will remember the powerful,
He has been able to warm this dazed cadaver
Where instead of blood flowing green water of Lethe. Page 133

LXXVIII. - Spleen
When the low, heavy sky weighs like a lid
On the groaning spirit, victim of long ennui,
And the horizon embracing the whole circle
He pays us a sad night black day;
When the earth is changed into a damp dungeon,
Where Hope, like a bat,
Goes beating the walls with her timid wings
And bumping his head rotten ceilings;
When the rain stretching out its endless trails
In a large grim prison bars
And the dumb people of infamous spiders

Just set nets deep in our brains,

Bells suddenly leap with rage
And launched into the sky a frightful roar,
And wandering spirits and homeless
Who start whining stubbornly.
- And long hearses, without drums or music,
Marched slowly in my soul; Hope,
Defeated, crying, and atrocious, despotic Anguish,
On my bowed skull plants her black flag. Page 134

LXXIX. - Obsession
Great wood, you frighten me like cathedrals;
You scream as the organ, and in our cursed hearts
Bed and eternal mourning where vibrate old rails,
Meet the echoes of your De Profundis.
I hate you, Ocean! thy bonds and thy tumult,
My mind finds in him the bitter laugh
The defeated man, full of tears and insults,
I hear laughter in the huge sea
As you please me, O night! without these stars
Whose light speaks a language known!
Because I seek the void, and black, and naked!
But the darkness themselves webs
Where they live, springing from my eyes by the thousands,
Beings disappeared from sight familiar. Page 135

LXXX. - The Taste of nothingness

Dull mind, once lovers struggle

Hope, whose spur fanned your ardor

Do you want to ride more! Lie shamelessly
Old horse whose foot every obstacle mound.
Resign yourself, my heart, your sleep sleep rough.
Spirit defeated, exhausted! For you old rascal,
Love has no taste, no more than the dispute;
Farewell, songs copper and sighs of the flute!
Pleasures, try a more dark and brooding heart!
Spring has lost its sweet smell!
And Time engulfs me minute by minute
As the huge body made of stiff snow;
- I look from above the globe roundness
And I no longer seeks the shelter of a hut.
Avalanche, would you take me in your fall? Page 136

LXXXI. - Alchemy of Pain

One enlighten you with his ardor,
Another puts you in mourning, Nature!
This tells one: Burial!
Said to the other: Life and splendor!
Unknown Hermes who ASSISTED me
And still intimidas me
You make me the equal of Midas
The saddest part of the alchemists;
Through you I change gold iron
And heaven into hell;
In the shroud of clouds
I discovered a cheap corpse

And the heavenly shores

I build large sarcophagi. Page 137

LXXXII. - Friendly Horror

This bizarre and livid sky,
Tormented as your destiny
What thoughts into your empty soul
Down? answer, libertine.
- Greedy Insatiably
The obscure and uncertain,
I do not whimper like Ovid
Chased from the Latin paradise.
Heavens torn as strikes,
In you is reflected my pride;
Your vast clouds in mourning
Are hearses of my dreams,
And your lights reflect
Of Hell where my heart is like. Page 138

LXXXIII. - The Hautontimoroumnos

A JGF
I strike you without anger
And hatred, as a butcher,
As Moses rock!
And I will make your eyelid
To give drink to my Saharah,
Spring waters of suffering.
My desire swollen with hope

On your tears salty swim

As a ship takes off,
And in my heart they soleront
Your dear sobs resound
Like a drum beating the charge!
I'm not a fake agreement
In the divine symphony,
Thanks to voracious Irony
Shaking me and biting me? Page 139

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139
It is my voice, screaming!
This is my blood, this black poison!
I am the mirror loss
Where the shrew looks.
I am the wound and the knife!
I am the bellows and play!
I am a member and the wheel
And the victim and the executioner!
I am the vampire of my heart,
- One of the great abandoned
Condemned to eternal laughter,
And who can not smile!
LXXXIV. - The Irreversible
I
An idea, a form, a Being
Out of the blue and fell

Styx in a muddy and sealed

Where no eye of Heaven penetrates;
An Angel, unwary traveler
Has attempted the love of deformed
At the bottom of a huge nightmare
Struggling like a swimmer,
And fighting, mortal agony!
Against a gigantic tub
Who is singing like crazy
And pirouetting in darkness; Page 141

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141
An unfortunate bewitched
In his futile attempts,
To flee to a place full of reptiles,
Searching for the light and the key;
A damned down without lamp,
At the edge of an abyss, the odor
Betrays the wet depth
On the eternal stairs without handrails,
Where ensure slimy monsters
With wide eyes phosphorus
Make a dark night yet
And do they make visible;
A vessel from the pole
As a crystal trap,
Aiming how fatal Strait

He fell into the jail;

- Net Emblems, picture perfect
In irremediable fortune
Which suggests that the Devil
Always got everything done! Page 142

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142
II
Dark and clear head-to-head
A heart became his mirror!
Well Truth, clear and black,
Where a livid star trembles,
An ironic lighthouse infernal
Torch graces Satanic
Relief and glory unique
- The consciousness in Evil! Page 143

LXXXV. - The Clock

Clock! sinister god, scary, impassive,
Whose finger threatens us and said: "Remember!
Vibrant pain in your heart full of terror
Will be planted soon as a target;
The wispy Pleasure flee to the horizon
And a sylph at the bottom of the slide;
Every moment devours a piece of delight
Each man paid for his entire season.
Three thousand six hundred times per hour, the Second

Whispers: Remember! - Fast, with his voice

On the insect, now says: I am the past,
I pumped and your life with my filthy trunk!
Remember! Remember, prodigal! Memor esto!
(My metal throat speaks all languages.)
Minutes, foolish mortal, are gangues
Should not let go without extracting gold! Page 144

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144
Remember that Time is an avid player
Who wins without cheating, every time! it is the law.
The day falls; night increases, remember!
The gulf has always thirsty the hourglass is empty.
Sometimes the time comes when divine Chance,
Where the august Virtue, your still virgin wife
Where even Repentance (oh the last hostel!)
Where everything you say Die, old coward! it is too late! " Page 145
Page 146

TABLES IN PARIS
LXXXVI. - Landscape
I want to compose my eclogues chastely,
Sunset from the sky, like the astrologers,
And neighboring steeples, listen dreaming
Their solemn hymns carried by the wind.
Both hands at chin, the top of my attic
I see the studio singing and chatting;

Pipes, towers, these towers of the city,

And big skies that make everlasting dream.
It is sweet, through the mists, to see the birth
The star in the blue, the light at the window,
The rivers of coal up to the firmament
And the moon shed his pale enchantment.
I see the springs, summers, autumns;
And when it comes to winter snow monotonous
I shut all doors and shutters
To build at night my fairy palace.
So I'll dream bluish backgrounds Page 147

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147
Gardens, fountains weeping in alabaster,
Kisses, birds singing morning and evening,
And all that Romance has more childish.
The Riot, ranting in vain to my window,
Will not lift my head from my desk;
Because I am immersed in the pleasure
To evoke the Spring with my will,
To make a sun of my heart, and make
My thoughts burning a warm atmosphere. Page 148

LXXXVII. - The Sun

Along the old suburb, which hang from the hovels
Louvers, shelter secret lusts,
When the sun strikes with cruel strokes redoubled

The city and fields, on the rooftops and wheat,

I will practice only to my whimsical fencing
Sniffing every corner the chances of rhyme,
Stumbling over words like on the pavement,
Sometimes hitting worms have long dreamed.
The foster father, enemy of chlorosis,
Bloom in the fields like the roses;
He makes cares evaporate into the sky,
And fills the brain and the hives of honey.
It was he who rejuvenates carrying crutches
And makes gays and sweet as girls
And commands crops to grow and mature
In the immortal heart still wants to bloom!
When, like a poet, he descends into the cities,
It ennobles the fate of the most vile things
And introduces King, without noise and servants,
In all hospitals and all tastes. Page 149

Lxxxviii. - A beggar a red

White girl with red hair
Whose dress by her holes
Lets see poverty
And beauty,
For me, puny poet,
Your young sickly body,
Full of freckles,
A softness.
You wear more gallantly

A queen of romance
His velvet buskins
Your heavy hooves.
Instead of a rag too short
A superb court dress
Train Pleated loud and long
On your heels; Page 150

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150
Up down holes,
For eyes severely
On your leg a golden dagger
Encor sparkled;
Nodes that are insecurely attached
Reveal for our sins
Thy two breasts beautiful, radiant
Like eyes;
What to undress
Your arms do pray
Shots and hunt rebels
Goblins fingers
Pearls of the finest water,
Sonnets master Belleau
For your gallant shackled
Constantly available,
Lackeys of rhymers
You dedicating their futures

And contemplating your shoe

Under the stairs, Page 151

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151
Maint page enamored of chance,
Maint lord and maint Ronsard
Epieraient deducted for
Reduces your costs!
You would expect in your beds
More kisses Lily
And rank it under your laws
More than one Valois!
- But you're gueusant
Some old debris lying
On the threshold of a Vfour
Crossroads;
You're eyeing below
Jewelry twenty-nine in
I can not, oh! Sorry!
You donate.
So going without other ornament,
Perfume, pearls, diamonds,
Let your lean nudity,
O my beauty! Page 152

LXXXIX. - The Swan

A Victor Hugo

I
Andromache, I think of you! This small river
Poor, sad mirror where once shone
The immense majesty of your widowed grief,
This liar Simois by your tears grows
A fertilized suddenly my fertile memory
As I crossed the new Carrousel.
The old Paris is no longer (as a city
Changes more quickly, alas! the human heart);
I do not see that in mind all camp barracks
Those piles of drafted and drums
Herbs, boulders green with water puddles
And the shiny tiles, bric-a-brac. Page 153

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153
There was once a menagerie;
There I saw one morning, at the time under heaven
Cold and clear the Job wakes, where road
Pushes a dark hurricane in the silent air,
A swan who had escaped from its cage,
And its webbed feet rubbing dry pavement
On rough ground dragging its white plumage.
Near a stream without water beast opening its beak
Bathed his wings nervously in the dust,
And said, his heart full of beautiful native lake:
"Water, when will pleuvras you? when you thunder, lightning? "
I see unhappy, strange and fatal myth,

Skyward sometimes, as the man of Ovid

To the ironic and cruelly blue sky,
Its convulsive neck extending his greedy head
As if reproaching God!
II
Paris exchange! but nothing in my melancholy
Has moved! New palaces, scaffolding, blocks,
Old suburbs, everything for me becomes allegory,
And my dear memories are heavier than rocks. Page 154

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154
Also, before the Louvre an image oppresses me:
I think of my great swan with his crazy gestures,
As exiles, ridiculous and sublime,
And consumed with endless longing! and then you
Andromache, the arms of a great husband fell,
Vil cattle in the hands of proud Pyrrhus,
With an empty tomb in ecstasy curved;
Widow of Hector, alas! and wife of Helenus!
I think Negress thin and consumptive,
Stomping in the mud, and looking haggard eyes,
Absent coconut superb Africa
Behind the huge wall of fog;
Has anyone lost that can not be found
Never, never! those who drink of tears
Pain and suck like a good wolf!
The skinny orphans withering like flowers!

And in the forest where my mind went into exile

An old memory sounds full blast of the horn!
I think of sailors in a forgotten island
To the captives, to the vanquished! ... Many other encor!
XC. - The Seven Elders
A Victor Hugo
Bustling city, city full of dreams,
Where the spectrum daylight hangs the way!
Everywhere mysteries like sap flow
In the narrow channels of the powerful colossus.
One morning, while in the sad street
The houses, mist stretched height,
Simulated both platforms increased river
And, decor similar to the soul of the actor,
A dirty yellow fog flooded the whole space,
I followed, stiffening my nerves as a hero
And discussing with my already weary soul,
The suburb rocked by heavy trucks.
Suddenly, an old man whose yellow rags
Imitated the color of the rainy sky
Whose appearance would have rained alms,
Without malice gleaming in his eyes, Page 156

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156
Appeared to me. It seemed his eye soaked
In the gall his gaze sharpened frost,
His beard and long hair, stiff as a sword,

Stuck out like that of Judas.

It was not bent, but broken his spine
Doing with his leg a perfect right angle,
So that his staff, completing its mine
Gave him the clumsy shape and not
From a crippled quadruped or a three-legged Jew.
In the snow and mud he was going entangled,
As if crushed dead under his slippers,
Hostile universe rather indifferent.
Its like the him: beard, eye, back, stick, rags,
No feature distinguished the same hell come
This centennial twin, and these spectra Baroque
Walked the same steps towards an unknown goal.
To what nefarious plot was I exposed,
Or what evil chance and humiliated me?
Because I counted seven times, minute by minute,
This sinister multiple old man! Page 157

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157
That one who laughs at my concern
And not before a fraternal thrill
Think that despite many decay
These seven hideous monsters had the eternal air!
I would, without dying, contemplated the eighth
Inexorable, ironic and fatal
Disgusting Phoenix, son and father himself?
- I turned my back to the hellish procession.

Exasperated as a drunkard who sees double

I returned, I closed my door, terrified,
Sick and dejected, the feverish mind and disorder,
Injured by the mystery and absurdity!
In vain my reason would take the helm;
The storm playing baffled his efforts,
And my soul danced, danced, old barge
Without masts, a monstrous sea without borders! Page 158

XCI. - The Old Classifieds

A Victor Hugo
I
In the sinuous folds of the old capitals,
Where everything, even horror, turns enchantments,
I watch, obeying my fatal moods
Unusual beings, decrepit and charming.
These monsters were once dislocated women
Eponine or Lais! Monsters broken hunchbacks
Or twisted, love them! are encor souls.
Under petticoats and holes in cold tissue
They crawl, flogged by unfair kisses,
Trembling at the bus crash,
And hugging on their side, as well as relics,
A small embroidered flowers bag or riddle; Page 159

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159
They trot, exactly like puppets;

Crawl, like wounded animals,

Or dance, without wanting to dance, poor bells
Which hangs a heartless Demon! All broken
They are, they have piercing eyes like a gimlet,
Shining like the holes where the water sleeps at night;
They have the divine eyes of the girl
Who is surprised and laughs at all that glitters.
- Have you noticed that many old coffins
Are almost as small as a child?
Scholarly Death puts these beers such
A symbol of a strange and captivating taste
And when I see a stupid ghost
Paris crossing the swarming table
It always seems to me that this fragile being
Goes slowly towards a new cradle;
Unless, meditating on the geometry,
I'm not looking at the appearance of these discordant members
How many times must the worker varies
The shape of the case where all the bodies are put. Page 160

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160
- The eyes are well made a million tears
Crucibles a cooled metal spangled ...
These mysterious eyes invincible charms
For one austere Misfortune nursed!
II
Frascati deceased Vestal enamored;

Priestess Thalia, alas! whose blower

Buried know the name, famous evaporated
Sheltered at the Tivoli in its flower,
All intoxicate me, but among these frail beings
There are those who, making the pain honey,
Told the dedication that lent them wings:
Powerful hippogriff, leads me to heaven!
One, by his country inured to misfortune,
The other, her husband of overloaded pain,
The other, by the child Madonna pierced,
All could have a river with their tears! Page 161

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161
III
Ah! I have followed many of these women!
One, among others, at a time when the sun falling
Bloody sky crimson wounds,
Pensive, sat apart on a bench
To hear one of these concerts, rich copper
Whose soldiers sometimes flood our gardens,
And in these evenings or when you feel revived,
Pay any heroism in the heart of city dwellers.
That one right encor, feeling proud and the rule
Greedily inhaled the strong warrior and singing;
Sometimes opened his eyes as the eye of an old eagle;
Its marble brow seemed made for the bay!
IV

Like you walk, stoic and uncomplaining,

Through the chaos of living cities,
Mothers bleeding heart, or sacred courtesans,
Which once were all the names mentioned.
You who were charming or who were the glory,
No one recognizes you! a drunken ruffian
You insult from a paltry love;
Romping on your heels a coward and vile child. Page 162

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162
Shameful to exist shadow shriveled
Fearful, lower back, you are around the walls;
And no Hail strange destinies!
Remnants of humanity for eternity ripe!
But I, who tenderly watching you from afar,
The anxious eye fixed on your uncertain steps,
Just as if I were your father, O wonder!
I taste your knowledge of clandestine pleasures:
I see novices grow your passions;
Dark or light, I saw your days lost;
My heart has multiplied all your vices!
My soul shines all your virtues!
Ruins! my family! O fellow brains!
I make every evening a solemn farewell!
Where will you be tomorrow Eves octogenarians
Who bears the terrible claw God? Page 163

XCII. - The Blind

Behold them, my soul, they are awful!
To such models, vaguely ridiculous;
Terrible, strange as sleepwalkers;
Darting knows where their dark globes.
Their eyes, where the divine spark is gone,
As they looked away, are raised
In heaven you never sees to the cobbles
Look dreamily their heavy heads.
They thus pass unlimited black
This brother of eternal silence. O city!
While around us you sing, laugh and bellow, In
Enamored with pleasure to the atrocity,
See! I dragged myself too! but they more dazed
I say: What are they trying to Heaven, all blind? Page 164

XCIII. - In a busy
The deafening road around me roared.
Tall, slender, in deep mourning, majestic grief,
A woman passed, a lavish hand
Lifting, swinging festoon and hem;
Agile and graceful, her leg statue.
I drank tense as extravagant,
In his eye, livid sky where the hurricane germ,
The softness that fascinates and the pleasure that kills.
A flash ... then night! - Fugitive beauty
Whose glance I was suddenly reborn,
Do I see you more in eternity?

Moreover, far from here! too late! perhaps never!

Because I do not know where you're running, you do not know where I'm going,
O you whom I have loved, O you who knew it! Page 165

XCIV. - The farmer Skeleton

I
In anatomical plates
Lying on the dusty banks
Where many a book cadaverous
Sleeping like an ancient mummy
Drawings which gravity
And knowledge of an old artist
Although the topic is sad,
Communicated Beauty
We see what makes most comprehensive
These mysterious horrors
Digging as laborers,
Skeletons and the Scorchers.
The Flowers of Evil
166
II
This field you delve,
Peasants resigned and funeral,
Any effort of your vertebrae,
Or stripped of your muscles,
Say, what strange harvest
Convicts torn from charnel
Get out, and how farmer

Did you complete the barn?

Would you (a fate too hard
Epouvantable emblem and clear!)
Show that even in the grave
The promised sleep is not safe;
None than towards us is a traitor;
That everything, even death, lying to us,
And eternally,
Alas! we may need
In some unknown country
Skinning the surly earth
And push a heavy spade
Under our bloody and barefoot? Page 167

XCV. - The Evening Twilight

Here is the lovely evening, a friend of the criminal;
It comes as an accomplice, on tiptoe, the sky
Closes slowly as a large alcove,
And impatient man turns into a wild beast.
O night, sweet evening, desired by the
Whose arms, truthfully can say Today
We worked! - This is the night that relieves
Minds consumed a wild pain,
The stubborn scholar whose brow heavier,
And the worker who returns curved bed.
However unhealthy demons in the atmosphere
Awake heavily, as business people,
And bump flying shutters and awning.

Through the lights flickering wind

Prostitution lights in the streets;
As an anthill it opens its outcomes; Page 168

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168
Everywhere she cuts a secret path
As the enemy attempts a hand;
She stirs in the city of filth
Like a worm that steals the man what he eats.
We hear here and there kitchens whistle
Yelp theaters, orchestras snoring;
The guest tables, the game is the delight,
Is filled with whores and crooks, their accomplices,
And thieves, who have no truce or thank you,
Will soon begin their work, too,
And gently force the doors and crates
To live a few days and clothe their mistresses.
Collect yourself, my soul, in this grave moment,
And close your ear to roar.
This is the time when the pain of the sick sour!
Dark Night by the throat, they end
Their destiny and go to the common pit;
The hospital fills their sighs. - More than one
Will not seek more fragrant soup,
The fire in the evening with a beloved soul.
Yet most of them have never known
Home Sweet Home and have never lived! Page 169

XCVI. - The Game

Chairs in faded old courtesans,
Pale, painted eyebrows, eye hug and fatal
Smirking and making their meager ears
Knock down a stone and metal;
Around the green carpet faces without lip
Colorless lips, jaws without teeth,
And fingers convulsed an infernal fever,
Searching empty or throbbing breast pocket;
As dirty ceilings a row of pale chandeliers
And huge oil lamps casting their glow
On dark fronts of famous poets
Who are wasting their bloody sweat;
This is the blackboard in a night dream
I saw unfold under my clairvoyant eye.
Myself in a corner of the cave taciturn
I saw my elbows, cold, silent, envying, Page 170

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Envying those people stubborn passion,
These old whores the funeral gaiety
And all cheerfully trafficker to my face,
One of his old honor another of her beauty!
And my heart was alarmed to envy many a poor man
Current fervently to the yawning abyss,
And, drunk with his blood, in fact prefer

The pain of death and hell to nothingness! Page 171

XCVII. - Danse Macabre

A Ernest Christophe
Proud, as a living, his noble stature,
With a big bouquet, handkerchief and gloves,
She nonchalance and casualness
In lean coquettish airs extravagant.
Did anyone ever see the ball a slimmer waistline?
Her dress exaggerated in his royal scale,
Collapses extensively on a dry basis as clamp
A shoe dolled up, pretty as a flower.
The hive that plays along the clavicles
As a lascivious stream rubs the rock,
Modestly defends ridiculous jeers
Funeral charms she wants to hide.
His deep eyes are made of emptiness and darkness,
And his skull, flowers artistically capped
Oscillates softly on her frail vertebrae.
O charm of nothingness madly attired. Page 172

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172
Some will call you a caricature,
Who do not understand, drunk lovers flesh
The elegance of the human frame name.
You answer, large skeleton in my most expensive taste!
Just disturb you with a mighty grin,

The Feast of Life? or some old desire

Encor ramming your living carcass
He pushes you, gullible, the Sabbath of Pleasure?
The song of the violins, the candle flames,
Do you hope to drive your mocking nightmare,
And you just ask the torrent orgies
Refresh hell burning in your heart?
Inexhaustible well of stupidity and mistakes!
The ancient eternal pain still!
Through the curved trellis your ribs
I see wandering Encumbered insatiable aspic.
To tell the truth, I'm afraid your coquetry
Is not a prize worthy of his efforts;
That these mortal hearts, hears the taunt?
The charms of horror drunk that strong! Page 173

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The abyss of your eyes, full of horrible thoughts,
Exhale dizziness, and cautious dancers
Not contemplate without bitter nausea
The eternal smile of your thirty-two teeth.
But who has hugged a skeleton,
And that is fed things tomb?
Whatever perfume, clothes or toilet?
Who disgusted shows that feels good.
Bayadere without nose irresistible gouge
Say to these dancers who make offended:

"Proud darlings, despite the art powder and red

You feel all the dead! O skeletons musk
"Antinous withered dandies glabrous,
Glazed corpses, Lovelaces hoary,
Universal motion dance of death
Takes you to places that are not known!
"The cold banks of the Seine to the burning edges
Ganges
The mortal herd jumps and swoons, without seeing
In a hole in the ceiling of the angel trumpet
Grimly and a gaping black blunderbuss. Page 174

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174
"In any climate, under every sun, Death admires you
In your contortions, laughable humanity,
And often, like you, is perfumed with myrrh,
Mixes irony to your insanity! " Page 175

Xcviii. - Love lies

When I see you go, oh dear indolent,
Singing instrument that breaks the ceiling
Suspending your smooth and slow pace,
Walking and boredom of your deep gaze;
When I look at the traffic lights the gas flowing colors,
Your forehead pale, embellished by a morbid attraction,
Where torches light up the evening dawn
And your eyes attractive as those of a portrait

I say she is beautiful! and oddly cool!

Massive memory, royal and heavy round
The crown, and his heart, bruised like a peach,
Is ripe, like his body, the scientist love.
Are you the autumn fruit flavors sovereign?
Are you waiting a few tears funeral vase,
Perfume that makes you dream the distant oases,
Pillow caressing, or basket of flowers? Page 176

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I know it's the eyes, most melancholy,
Who does contain valuable point of secrets;
Fine caskets without jewels, medallions without relics,
More voids deeper than yourselves, O heavens!
But not enough that you're appearance,
To celebrate a heart leaking the truth?
Whatever your stupidity or your indifference?
Mask or decor, hello! I love your beauty. Page 177

XCIX
I have not forgotten, close to the city,
Our white house, small but quiet;
His plaster Pomona and old Venus
In a feeble grove hiding their members
[Naked
And the sun, the night, dripping and beautiful,
That behind the glass broke when his sheaf,

Seemed big curious eyes open in the sky,

Contemplate our long and silent dinners,
Widely spreading its beautiful reflections of candle
On frugal water and serge curtains. Page 178

C
The maid with a big heart you were jealous
And sleeps his sleep in a humble lawn
Yet we should bring him some flowers.
The dead, the poor dead, have great pain,
And when October breath pruner old trees,
His melancholy wind round about their marbles
Certe, they must find the ungrateful living,
A sleeping as they do, warm in their beds,
While devoured black musings,
Without bedfellow without good talks,
Old skeletons frozen worked by the worm,
They feel drain the snows of winter
And the century run without just friends or family
Replace tattered hanging their grid.
When the log whistles and sings, so the evening
Quiet, in the chair I saw her sit
If a blue and cold December night
I found lurking in a corner of my room,
Grave, and from the bottom of his eternal bed
Cover the child grew up with her maternal eye
What could I answer this pious soul,
Seeing tears fall from her eye hollow? Page 179

CI. - Mists and rains

O for fall, winter, spring hardened mud,
Soporific seasons! I love you and praise you
On and wrap my heart and my brain
On a misty shroud and a wave tomb.
In this great plain where the cold south wind plays
Where through the long nights the wind is hoarse,
My soul better than lukewarm renewal time
Open wide its raven wings.
Nothing is more soft heart full of funeral things,
And that long since descended frosts,
O pale seasons, queens our climate
The permanent aspect of your pale shadows,
- If it is not, a moonless night, two by two,
To numb the pain of a hazardous bed. Page 180

CII. - Parisian Dream

A Constantin Guys
I
This terrible landscape,
As no mortal ever saw
This morning the picture
Vague and distant, delights me.
Sleep is full of miracles!
By a singular caprice,
I was banned from these shows
Irregular plant,

And proud of my genius painter,

I savored in my picture
The intoxicating monotony
Metal, marble and water. Page 181

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Babel stairs and arches
It was an infinite palace
Full of ponds and waterfalls
Falling in matte or burnished gold;
And heavy waterfalls,
As crystal curtains,
Were suspended, dazzling,
A metal walls.
No trees, but colonnades
Dormant ponds surrounded,
Where gigantic nymphs,
As women were mirrored.
Sheets of water poured out, blue,
Between pink and green banks,
For millions of miles
To the edge of the universe:
It was unheard of stones
And magical waves that were
Huge ice dazzled
For all they reflect!
The Flowers of Evil

182
Heedless and taciturn,
The Ganges, in the firmament,
Poured the treasure of their urns
In diamond pits.
Architect of my faeries,
I was doing my will,
A tunnel with jewels
Place a tamed ocean;
And even the color black,
Seemed polished, clear, iridescent;
Liquid enchased glory
Crystallized in the radius.
Moreover, no star, no glimmer
Sun, even low in the sky,
To illuminate these wonders
Shining a personal firewall!
And these shifting wonders
Hovering (terrible news!
All the eye, nothing for the ears!)
A silence of eternity. Page 183

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183
II
On opening my eyes full of flame
I saw the horror of my slum
And felt, returning to my soul,

The point concerns cursed;

The clock with mournful
Sounded sharply noon
And the sky shed darkness
The sad numb world. Page 184

CIII. - The Twilight Morning

The diane sang in over the barracks,
And the wind was blowing on the lanterns.
It was a time when the swarm of evil dreams
Twists on their pillows adolescents brown;
Where, as a bloody eye throbbing and moving,
The lamp on the day is a red spot;
Where the soul, under the weight of surly and heavy body,
Mimics fighting lamp and day.
As a weeping face wipe the breezes,
The air is full of the thrill of things that flee,
And the man is tired of writing and woman to love.
The houses here and there began to smoke.
Women pleasure, livid eyelid
Mouth open, slept their sleep stupid;
The paupers, dragging their meager breasts and cold,
Blowing on their fires, blowing on their fingers. Page 185

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185
It was the time from the cold and stingy
Worsen the pain of women in labor;

As a sob cut by a frothy blood

The cock tore off the misty air;
A sea of mist bathed buildings,
And dying in the bottom of hospices
Pushed their last gasp in uneven gasps.
Fornicators returned, broken by their work.
The shivering dawn pink and green dress
Advanced slowly on the deserted Seine,
Paris and the dark, rubbing his eyes,
Grabbed his tools, old laborious. Page 186

WINE
CIV. - The Soul of Wine
One evening, the soul of wine sang in the bottles:
"Man, I bring you, O dear disinherited,
In my glass prison and my rosy waxes,
A song full of light and brotherhood!
"I know how much it takes, on the hill in flame,
Trouble, sweat and scorching sun
To lead my life and give me soul;
But I will not be ungrateful or evil,
"Because I feel great joy when I fall
In the throat of a man worn out by work,
And his warm chest is a gentle fall
Where I like much better than my cold cellars.
"Do you hear the sound of the chorus Sundays
And hope chirping in my throbbing breast?
Elbows on the table and rolling up your sleeves,

You honor me and you'll be happy; Page 187

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187
"I will light the eyes of your wife happy;
At your son I will make its strength and color
And will be for that frail athlete of life
The oil strengthens the muscles of the wrestlers.
"In you I fall, ragweed plant,
Precious seed sown by the eternal Sower
For our love poetry born
Springing to God like a rare flower! " Page 188

CV. - Wine ragpickers

Often, the red light of a street lamp
Which the wind beats fire and storm glass,
At the heart of an old suburb, muddy labyrinth
Where humanity crawling ferments in stormy
We see a chest ahead, nodding,
Stumbling and bumping into walls as a poet,
And, heedless of cookies, his subjects,
Pours her heart in glorious projects.
It takes oaths, dictates sublime laws,
Terrace the wicked, identifies victims
And in the sky as a canopy suspended
Intoxicates the splendor of his own virtue.
Yes, these people harassed sorrows household
Ground through work and tormented by age,

Exhausted and bending under a pile of debris,

Vomiting confused the enormous Paris, Page 189

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189
Return, fragrant smell of casks,
Followed by companions, bleached in battle
Mustache which hangs like the old flags.
Banners, flowers and triumphal arches
Stand before them, solemn magic!
And the stunning light and orgy
Bugles, sun, cries and drum,
They bring glory to love drunk people!
This is only through Humanity frivolous
The wine rolls of gold, dazzling Pactolus;
Through the throat of the man he sings his exploits
And reigns through donations as well as the true kings.
To drown the bitterness and lull the indolence
All these damn old who die in silence,
God touched with remorse, had sleep;
Man added Wine, sacred son of the Sun! Page 190

CVI. - Wine of the assassin

My wife is dead, I'm free!
So I can drink my fill.
When I came home penniless,
Her screams tore my fiber.
As a king, I am happy;

The air is pure, the sky admirable ...

We had been similar
When I fell in love!
The horrible thirst that tears me
Would need to satisfy
Especially wine that can hold
His tomb - it is saying:
I threw it at the bottom of a well,
And I even went on it
All blocks of the curb.
- I forget if I can! Page 191

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191
On behalf of the oaths of love,
Which nothing can release us,
And to reconcile us
As the weather in our drunkenness,
I implored her appointment,
In the evening, on a dark road.
She came - crazy creature!
We are all more or less crazy!
She was still pretty,
Although very tired! and I
I loved him too! that's why
I said: Get out of this life!
No one can understand me. One
Among those stupid drunks

He thought in his morbid nights

To make wine a shroud?
This invulnerable villain
As machines iron
Ever, neither was nor winter
Has known true love, Page 192

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192
With its black enchantments,
His hellish procession of alarms,
His vials of poison, tears,
His noises chain and bones!
- This is me free and solitaire!
I'll be drunk tonight;
So, without fear and without remorse,
I will lie on the earth,
And I sleep like a dog!
The carriage with heavy wheels
Loaded with stones and sludge,
The rabid car may well
Crush my head guilty
Or cut me down the middle,
I do not care as God
Devil or the Holy Table!
CVII. - Wine of the solitary
The unique look of a courtesan
That slides towards us like white beam

The wavy moon sends trembling lake,

When she wants to bathe her nonchalant beauty;
The last bag of crowns in the fingers of a player;
A libertine lean Adeline kiss;
The sounds of music annoying and cuddly,
Like the distant cry of human pain,
While this is not true, oh deep bottle
Penetrating that your fertile belly balms
Clearance altered heart of the pious poet;
You pour him hope, youth and life,
- And the pride of all this treasure beggary,
Makes us triumphant and similar to the Gods! Page 194

VCIII. - Wine Lovers

Today the space is gorgeous!
Without jaws, without spurs, without flange
Let riding on wine
For a magical and divine sky!
Like two angels torture
Relentless calenture,
In the crystal blue morning
Follow the distant mirage!
Gently swaying on the wing
Intelligent vortex
In a parallel delirium,
My sister, swimming side by side,
We will fly without rest or truce
To the paradise of my dreams! Page 195

Page 196

FLOWERS OF EVIL
CIX. - Destruction
Constantly agitated by my side the devil;
He swims around me like impalpable air;
I swallow and feel him burn my lung
And filled with eternal guilt and desire.
Sometimes it takes, knowing my great love of Art,
The shape of the most attractive women,
And, under specious pretexts cockroach
Accustom my lips to infamous potions.
He leads me thus, far from the eyes of God,
Panting and tired out in the middle
Plains Boredom, deep and deserted,
And throw in my eyes full of confusion
Soiled clothes, open wounds,
And bloody instruments of Destruction! Page 197

CX. - A Martyr
Drawing an unknown Master
Amid vials, lam fabrics
And voluptuous furniture
Marbles, paintings, dresses scented
Lying in sumptuous folds
In a warm room where, as in a greenhouse,
The air is dangerous and fatal,
Where bouquets dying in their glass coffins

Exhale their final sigh

A headless corpse erupts, like a river,
On the pillow refreshed
A red living blood, the canvas is watered
With the eagerness of a meadow.
Similar visions engendered pale shadow
And that bind our eyes,
The head, with its clusters of dark mane
And its precious jewels,
On the nightstand as a buttercup,
Based and, empty thoughts,
A vague and white look like twilight
Escapes rolling eyes. Page 198

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198
On the bed, naked trunk unscrupulous spread
In complete abandonment
The secret splendor and beauty fatal
Which nature gave him;
A pink stocking adorned with gold corners, leg,
As a memory remained;
The garter and a secret flaming eye,
Darts a diamond look.
The unique aspect of this loneliness
And a large languorous portrait
The provocative attitude as eyes,
Reveals a dark love

A guilty pleasure and strange holidays

Full of kisses infernal
Which rejoiced the swarm of evil angels
Swimming in the folds of the curtains;
Yet to see the elegant thinness
From shoulder to hit contour
Hip a little sharp and feisty size
And a reptile irritated Page 199

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199
She is still young! - His soul exasperated
And its meaning by boredom enthusiasts
Had they altered slightly opened the pack
Stray and lost desires?
The vindictive man you could not, live,
Despite so much love, satisfy,
He showered on your complacent and inert flesh
The immensity of his desire?
Answer, body impure! and thy stiff braids
You lifting a feverish arms
Tell me, frightening head, he cold on your teeth
Glued the last farewell?
- Far from mocking world, away from the impure crowd
Far from magistrates curious
Sleep in peace, sleep in peace, strange creature,
In your mysterious tomb;
Your husband runs the world, and your immortal form

Sleep with him when he sleeps;

As much as you probably will be faithful to you,
And constant unto death. Page 200

CXI. - Women damned

Like pensive cattle lying on the sand,
They turn their eyes towards the horizon of the sea,
And their feet and seek their hands close together
Have sweet languor and chills bitter.
Some, loving hearts long confidences
In the bottom of the groves where streams chatter,
Spelling will love the fearful childhood
And dig green wood young saplings;
Others, like sisters, walk slow and serious
Through full of appearances, rocks
Where St. Anthony saw emerge as lava
Bare and purple breasts of his temptations;
It is by the light of crumbling resins
Who in the silent hollows of old pagan dens
You call for help from their screaming fever,
O Bacchus, lulling the old remorse! Page 201

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201
And others, whose throat like scapulars,
That concealing a whip in their long robes,
Mix in the dark woods and lonely nights
The foam fun to tears of torment.

O virgins, demons, monsters O, O martyrs,

The big reality detractors spirits
Diggers infinite devotees and satyrs
Sometimes full of screaming, sometimes filled with tears,
You in your hell my soul has continued,
Poor sisters, I love you as much as I pity you,
For your dull pain, your thirst unquenched,
And urns of love that your big hearts are
[Full!
CXII. - The Two Good Sisters
Debauchery and Death are two lovely daughters,
Lavish kisses and rich health
Which still blank side and draped in rags
Under the eternal work never born.
The sinister poet, enemy families
Favorite hell, evil courtier annuity
Tombs and brothels show in their bowers
A bed that remorse has never attended.
And beer and alcove fertile in blasphemies
We offer turn as two nuns,
Terrible and awful sweet pleasures.
When will you bury me, Debauchery the unclean hands?
O Death, when will you come, his rival attractions,
Its myrtles enter your foul black cypress? Page 203

Cxiii. - The Fountain of Blood

It sometimes seems to me that my blood is flowing,
And a fountain rhythmic sobs.

I can hear it flowing with a long murmur,

But I feels in vain to find the wound.
Throughout the city, as in a closed field,
He goes, turning paving blocks,
Quenching the thirst of every creature,
And everywhere in red dye nature.
I often asked captious wines
To sleep for a day of terror that undermines me;
The wine makes the eye clearer and finer ear!
I looked in love a forgetful sleep;
But love is for me a mattress needles
Made to give drink to those cruel girls! Page 204

CXIV. - Allegory
This is a beautiful woman and rich neck
Leaving in its wine drag her hair.
The claws of love, poisons gambling,
All slides and everything dulls the granite of his skin.
She laughed and taunted Death Debauchery,
These monsters hand, always scratching and cutting,
In its destructive games yet he followed
This law firm body and the rough majesty.
She walks into a goddess and is based in Sultana
It was fun in the Mohammedan faith,
And its open arms that fill her breasts,
It calls for the eyes human race.
She thinks she knows, this barren virgin
And yet necessary to the running of the world,

The beauty of the body is a sublime gift

That any infamy hard forgiveness.
She knows as Hell Purgatory
And when the time comes to enter the Black Night
It will look the face of Death
And a newborn - without hatred and without remorse. Page 205

CXV. - The Beatrice

In ashen land, burned without greenery,
As I complained one day to the nature,
And my thought, wandering at random,
I slowly sharpened dagger in my heart,
Live at noon down on my head
A funeral cloud and major storm,
Carrying a herd of vicious demons,
Similar to cruel and strange dwarfs.
A look coldly they began,
And like a fool passers they admire,
I heard them laughing and whispering to each other,
Exchanging many a sign and maint wink:
- "Contemplate at leisure this cartoon
And the shadow of Hamlet imitating his posture,
The undecided eyes and hair in the wind.
Is it not much pity to see this good living, Page 206

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206
It beggars, this actor on vacation, this funny,

Because it can play its role artistically,

Wanting interested in singing her pain
Eagles, crickets, streams and flowers,
And even we, the authors of these old items,
Reciting screaming his public tirades? "
I could (my pride as high as the mountains
Dominates the cloud and the cry of demons)
Simply turn my head sovereign,
If I had not seen one of their obscene troop
Crime did not falter the sun!
The queen of my heart nonpareil glance
Laughing with them my dark distress
And sometimes paid them some lewd caress. Page 207

Cxvi. - A Voyage to Cythera

My heart, like a bird fluttering joyfully
And hung freely round ropes;
The ship rolled under a cloudless sky,
Like an angel drunk on a sunny day.
What is this sad and black island? - It is Cythera
We are told, a famous country songs,
Banal Eldorado of all old boys.
Look, after all, this is a poor earth.
- Isle of sweet secrets and celebrations of heart!
From ancient Venus superb ghost
Over your waters as a flavoring,
And loads of love and languor minds.
Beautiful island with green myrtle, full of blooming flowers,

Venerated ever by any nation,

Where sighs of hearts in worship
Roll like incense in a rose garden
Or eternal cooing of a dove!
- Cythera was a field leaner,
A rocky desert troubled by bitter cries.
But I glimpsed a strange object! Page 208

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208
It was not a temple to the shady groves,
Where the young priestess, lover of flowers,
Was the burned body of secret heat,
Half-opening her dress every breeze;
But now that shaving the coast near enough
To disturb the birds with our white sails,
We saw that it was a gallows with three branches,
The sky silhouetted in black, like a cypress.
Ferocious birds perched on their pasture
Destroyed with rage that hung ripe
Each planting, as a tool, its filthy beak
In every corner of this bloody rot;
The eyes were two holes and belly collapsed
The heavy intestines running down her thighs,
And his executioners, crammed with hideous delight,
The had their beaks absolutely castrated.
Underfoot, a pack of dogs,
Snout pointed, circled and hovered;

A great beast in the middle fidgeted

As an executor surrounded by his aides. Page 209

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209
Cytherean, child of a beautiful sky
Silently you suffered these insults
In expiation of your infamous cults
And the sins that you have banned the tomb.
Ridiculous hanged, your pain is mine!
I felt at the sight of your dangling limbs
As vomiting, back to my teeth
The longest river in the old gall pain;
Before you, poor devil memories so dear,
I felt all the tips and all jaws
Throbbing of ravens and black panthers
Who once loved to grind my flesh.
- The sky was beautiful, the sea was smooth;
For me everything was black and bloody now
Alas! and I, as a thick shroud
The heart buried in this allegory.
In your island, O Venus! I found standing
A symbolic gallows where my image hung ...
- Ah! Lord! give me the strength and courage
To contemplate my heart and my body without disgust!
CXVII. - Love and the skull
Old cul-de-lamp
Love is sitting on the skull

Of Humanity
And on the throne profane,
Cheeky laughter,
Blowing bubbles merrily round
Going up in the air,
Like to join the worlds
At the bottom of the ether.
The bright and fragile globe
Takes a big swing,
Bursts and spits his soul hail
As a dream of gold.
I mean the skull each bubble
Pray and moan:
- "This fierce and ridiculous game
When should it end?
"For thy cruel mouth
Scatters in the air,
Monster assassin is my brain,
My heart and my flesh! " Page 211
Page 212

REVOLT
CXVIII. - The Denial of St. Peter
What does God do this stream of curses
Rising every day to his dear Seraphim?
As a tyrant gorged meat and wine
He falls asleep to the sweet sound of our awful blasphemies.
The sobs of martyrs and tortured

Are an intoxicating symphony probably

Because, despite their blood lust costs,
The heavens are are not yet satisfied!
- Ah! Jesus, remember the Garden of Olives!
In your simplicity you prayed on his knees
He who in his heaven laughing at the sound of nails
That vile perpetrators planted in your flesh bright,
When you live spit on your divinity
The villain of the guard and kitchens,
And when you feel the thorns penetrate
In your skull where lived the great humanity; Page 213

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213
When your broken body the horrible gravity
Distended stretched your two arms, that your blood
And your sweat ran down your face pale,
When you were all asked to be a target
Did you dream of these days so brilliant and so beautiful
When you came to fulfill the eternal promise
Where you trod, mounted on a gentle donkey
Of all strewn with flowers and branches paths
Where the heart swelling with hope and courage,
You whipped all these vile merchants with a vengeance,
Where you were finally master? Remorse does not he has
Entered your side more before the launch?
- Certainly, I get out, as for me, satisfied
A world where the action is not the sister of dream;

May I use the sword and die by the sword!

Peter denied Jesus ... he did well! Page 214

Cxix. - Cain and Abel

I
Race of Abel, sleep, eat and drink;
God smiles on you complacently.
Race of Cain, in the mud
Ramp and die miserably.
Race of Abel, your sacrifice
Flatter nose of Seraphim!
Race of Cain, your punishment
He will never have an end?
Race of Abel, see your sowing
And your cattle out;
Race of Cain, your bowels
Hunger howl like an old dog. Page 215

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215
Race of Abel, warm your belly
A patriarchal your home;
Race of Cain, in your den
Shivering, poor jackal!
Race of Abel, and love abounds!
Goldtone also small.
Race of Cain, heart burning,
Beware the big appetites.

Race of Abel, you browse and grow

Like stinkbugs!
Race of Cain, on the road
Train your family at bay.
II
Ah! Race of Abel, your carcass
Fatten the ground smoking!
Race of Cain, your task
Is not done enough; Page 216

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216
Race of Abel, thy shame here:
Iron is defeated by the spear!
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven,
And the earth casts God Page 217

CXX. - The Litanies of Satan

O thou, the wisest and most beautiful of Angels
God betrayed by fate, deprived of praise,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
O Prince of exile, who has been wronged,
And, defeated, you always straighten stronger,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
You who know all things subterranean King,
Healer of human anguish,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
Thou who the lepers, the outcasts

Signs by love the taste of Paradise Page 218

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218
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
O Thou who in Death, your mistress old and strong,
Engendras Hope - delightful aberration!
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
You who the outlaw the calm mien
That damns the crowd around the scaffold.
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
Thou knowest the corners envious land
The jealous God has hidden gems,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
Thou whose clear eye knows deep arsenals
Where sleeps the people buried metals
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
You whose broad hand conceals the precipice
The sleepwalker wandering along the buildings,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery! Page 219

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219
You who magically relaxed old bones
The retarded drunk trodden by horses,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
You who, to console frail man who suffers,
We learned to mix saltpeter and sulfur,

O Satan, take pity on my long misery!

That you lay your mark, O subtle accomplice,
On the front of Croesus harsh and vile,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
You put that in the eyes and in the heart of girls
The cult of the wound and the love of rags,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
Stick exiles discoverer,
Confessor condemned conspirator,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery! Page 220

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Adoptive father of those in his rage
The earthly paradise has driven God the Father,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
Prayer
Glory and praise to you, Satan, in the heights
Of Heaven where you reigned, and in the depths
Of Hell, where defeated, you dream in silence!
Make my soul one day, under the Tree of Knowledge,
Sits near you, at the time on your forehead
As a new Temple its branches
is pandront!
DEATH
CXXI. - The Death of Lovers
We will have full beds slight odor
Deep sofas as tombs,

And strange flowers on shelves

In bloom for us in the most beautiful skies.
Employing the latest heat their environment,
Our two hearts will be two large torches,
Which reflect their lights double
In both our minds, these twin mirrors.
One evening made of rose and mystic blue
We exchange a single flash,
Like a long sob, laden farewell;
And later an Angel, opening his doors,
Will revive, faithful and joyful,
The tarnished mirrors and the flames died. Page 223

Cxxii. - Death of the poor

It is Death that console, alas! and that gives life;
This is the purpose of life - and this is the only hope
Which, as an elixir, we go up and we get drunk,
And gives us the heart to walk until evening;
Through the storm, and snow and frost,
This is the vibrant clarity to our black horizon
This is the famous inn listed on the book,
Where you can eat, sleep, and sit;
This is an angel who holds in his fingers magnetic
Sleep and the gift of ecstatic dreams
And remade the bed of the poor and naked people;
It is the glory of God, is the mystical attic
It is poor scholarship and ancient homeland,
This is the open porch on the unknown Heavens! Page 224

CXXIII. - Death of the artist

How does it again shake my bells
And kiss thy low brow, dismal caricature?
To pique the purpose of mystical nature,
How, O my quiver, losing javelins?
We wear out our souls in subtle schemes,
And we demolish many a heavy frame,
Before contemplating the great Creature
Whose infernal desire fills us with tears!
There are those who have never known their Idol
And those damned sculptors and marked with an insult,
Who will be pounding the chest and forehead,
Have a hope, strange dark Capitol!
Is that death, hovering like a new sun
Will grow the flowers of their brain! Page 225

CXXIV. - The End of Day

Under dim light
Short dance and twists without reason
Life, impudent and screaming.
Also, as soon as the horizon
The voluptuous night rises
Soothing all, even hunger,
Erasing everything, even shame,
The poet says: "Finally!
My mind, like my vertebrae
Summons ardently rest;

The heart full of dreams funeral,

I'll lie on your back
And roll in your curtains,
O refreshing darkness! " Page 226

CXXV. - The Dream of a curious

A Flix Nadar
Do you know, like me, tasty pain,
And you do you say, "Oh! the strange man! "
- I was going to die. It was love in my soul,
Desire mingled with horror, a particular evil;
Anxiety and high hopes, but factious spirits.
Plus was emptying the fatal hourglass
My torture was more bitter and delicious;
All my heart tore the familiar world.
I was like the greedy child show
Hating the curtain as a barrier we hate ...
Finally, the cold truth is revealed:
I died without surprise, and the terrible dawn
Enveloped me. - What! is it therefore that?
The curtain had risen and I was still waiting. Page 227

CXXVI. - The Journey

A Maxime Du Camp
I
For the child, lover of maps and prints,
The universe is equal to its vast appetite.
Ah! the world's great to lamplight!

Remember that the eyes of the world is small!

One morning we leave the brain full of flame
The big heart of resentment and bitter desires,
And we will, following the rhythm of the blade,
Rocking our infinite on the finite seas:
Some, happy to escape the infamous country;
Further, the horror of their cribs, and some,
Astrologers drowned in the eyes of a woman,
Tyrannical Circe with dangerous perfumes. Page 228

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Not to be changed into beasts, they get drunk
On space and light and glowing skies;
The ice that bites, suns that bronze
Slowly fading brand kisses.
But the true voyagers are only those who leave
To leave; hearts light as balloons,
Their fate they never deviate,
And, without knowing why, they always say: Come!
Those whose desires are in the form of clouds,
And dream, and a conscript cannon
Vast voluptuousness, changing unknown
Which the human mind has never known!
I
I
We imitate, horror! the top and the ball
In their waltz and bonds, even in our sleep

Curiosity torments us and drives

Like a cruel angel whipping suns. Page 229

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229
Singular fortune where the goal moves
And, being nowhere, can be anywhere!
Where rights, which never hope is tired,
To find the rest still runs like crazy!
Our soul is a three-master seeking Icaria
A voice came over the bridge, "Open your eyes! "
A voice from the steaming, hot mad shouts
"Love ... glory ... happiness! "Hell! this is a showstopper!
Each block reported by the watchman
Eldorado is a promise by Destiny;
Imagination outlining its orgy
Finds a reef in the morning light.
O the poor lover chimeric country!
Should he be put in irons, thrown into the sea,
The drunken sailor, inventor of the Americas
Mirage which makes the bitter pit?
As the old vagabond, tramping in the mud,
Dream, nose in the air, bright heaven;
His eye discovers a bewitched Capua
Wherever a candle illuminates a slum. Page 230

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230

III
Astonishing travelers! what noble stories
We read in your eyes as deep as the sea!
Show us the caskets of your rich memories
These wonderful jewels, made of stars and ethers.
We want to travel without steam sailing!
Made to enliven the tedium of our prisons
Roll on our minds, stretched like a canvas,
Your memories with their frames backgrounds.
Say, what did you see?
IV
"We saw the stars
And the waves, we saw sand too;
And despite many shocks and unexpected disasters
We often bored as here.
"The glory of the sun on the purple sea,
The glory of cities in the sunset,
Lit in our hearts a restless ardor
Dive into a sky reflection enticing. Page 231

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231
"The richest cities, larger landscapes,
Never contained the mysterious attraction
Those that chance with the clouds.
And always made us anxious desire!
"- The enjoyment adds to the desire for power.
Desire, old tree that is pleasure fertilizer

However that thickens and hardens your bark,

Your branches want to see the sun more closely!
"Grow up you always big plus perennial tree
The cypress? - But we have carefully
Picked some sketches for your greedy album,
Brothers who are all beautiful from afar!
"We welcomed idols wrong;
Thrones studded with bright gems;
Ornate palaces whose fairy pump
Bankers would be ruinous for your dream;
"The costumes are eye intoxication;
Women whose teeth and nails are dyed,
And learned that the snake jugglers caress. " Page 232

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232
V
And what then?
V
I
"O childish minds!
"To remember the death thing
We have seen everywhere, without having sought
From top to bottom of the fatal ladder,
The boring spectacle of immortal sin:
"The base slave, proud and stupid,
Seriously adoring and loving without disgust;
Man, greedy tyrant, bawdy, hard and greedy

Slave and the slave stream into the sewer;

"The executioner who enjoys the sobbing martyr;
The festival that perfumes and blood;
The poison irritating to the despot,
And the loving people of brutalizing whip; Page 233

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233
"Many religions like ours,
All climbing heaven, holiness,
As a feather bed a delicate wallowing
In nails and hair seeking pleasure;
"Humanity talkative drunk of his genius,
And crazy now as it once was,
Crying to God in his furious agony
"O my fellow, my lord, I curse you! "
"And the less foolish, bold lovers of Dementia
Fleeing herd penned by Fate,
And taking refuge in the vast opium!
- This is the entire globe eternal newsletter. "
VII
Amer know that one draws the trip!
The world, monotonous and small today
Yesterday, tomorrow, always, makes us see our own image:
An oasis of horror in a desert of boredom!
Should he go? stay? If you can stay, stay;
Leave, if necessary. The short and the other crouches
To deceive the enemy alert and fatal,

Time! It is, alas! runners without respite, Page 234

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234
As the wandering Jew and as the apostles,
To whom nothing or wagon or vessel
To escape this ugly gladiator, there are others
Who can kill without leaving their birthplace.
When he finally set foot on our backs,
We can hope and cry: Forward!
The same as before we left for China,
Staring off and the wind in your hair,
We ship Sea of Darkness
With joyful heart of a young passenger.
Do you hear these lovely funeral and voice
Singing: "Over here! that you want to eat
"The Lotus fragrant! this is where we harvest
The miraculous fruits that your heart is hungry;
Come get drunk the strange sweetness
This afternoon that never end! "
In the familiar accent we guess the spectrum
Our Pylades there stretch out their arms to us.
"To refresh your swim to your heart Electra! "
Said the one we once kissed knees. Page 235

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235
VIII

O Death, old captain, it is time! set sail!

This country bothers us, O Death! Set sail!
If the sky and the sea are black as ink,
You know our hearts are filled with rays!
Pour us your poison to comfort us!
We want, as the fire burns our brains,
Plunge into the abyss, Hell or Heaven, so what?
At the bottom of the Unknown to find something new!
THE WRECK
The Romantic Sunset
The sun is beautiful when fresh it rises,
Like an explosion throwing us a hello!
- Blessed is he who can with love
Greet his most glorious a dream bed!
I remember! ... I saw everything, flower, source, path,
Swoon in his eye like a heart that beats ...
- Run to the horizon, it's late, run fast,
To catch at least one oblique ray!
But I continue in vain God who retires;
The irresistible Night establish its empire,
Black, wet, sad and full of chills;
Smell tomb in swimming darkness
And my fearful foot crumples on the edge of the swamp,
Unexpected toads and snails cold. Page 237
Page 238

CONVICTED OF PARTS FROM

"Flowers of Evil"

Lesbos
Mother of Latin games and Greek delights,
Lesbos, where kisses, languishing or joyful,
Hot as the sun, as fresh watermelons,
Font ornament nights and glorious day,
Mother of Latin games and Greek delights,
Lesbos, where kisses are like cascades
Flowing fearless in bottomless chasms,
And running, sobbing and gurgling intermittently,
Stormy and secret, teeming deep;
Lesbos, where kisses are like waterfalls!
Lesbos, where courtesans each other attract,
Where ever a sigh remained unheeded,
At the same Paphos stars you admire
And Venus can rightly jealous Sappho!
Lesbos, where courtesans each other attract, Page 239

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Lesbos, land of warm and languorous nights
Who are at their mirrors, sterile pleasure!
Girls with hollow eyes, their love body
Caress the ripe fruits of their womanhood;
Lesbos, land of hot and languorous nights
Let old Plato look austere eye;
You earn forgiveness of excess kisses
Queen sweet empire, kind and noble land,
And refinements still unexhausted.

Let old Plato look austere eye.

You earn forgiveness of eternal martyrdom
Inflicted tirelessly ambitious hearts
Attracts far from us the radiant smile
Vaguely glimpsed along the other heavens!
You earn forgiveness of eternal martyrdom!
Gods who dare, Lesbos, be your judge
And condemn your pale face in the work,
If his golden scales have weighed the flood
Tears as the sea poured your streams?
Gods who dare, Lesbos, be your judge? Page 240

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240
That we want the laws of just and unjust?
Virgin at heart sublime honor of the Archipelago,
Your religion is like another august
Laugh and love of Hell and Heaven!
That we want the laws of just and unjust?
For Lesbos chose me among all the earth
To sing the secret of its pristine blossoms,
And I was as a child admitted to the black mystery
Mixed with the dark crying frantic laughter;
For Lesbos chose me among all the earth.
And since then I watch the top of Leucate
As a sentinel to piercing eye and safe
Who watches day and night brig tartan or frigate,
Which forms off shiver in the azure;

And since then I watch the top of Leucate

Whether the sea is indulgent and kind,
And among the sobs whose rock sounds
One evening will bring to Lesbos, forgiving,
The body of Sappho loved, who left
Whether the sea is indulgent and kind! Page 241

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241
The male Sappho, the lover and the poet
More beautiful than Venus by its dull pallor!
- The blue eye is defeated by the black eye that dapple
The dark circle traced by the pain
The male Sappho, the lover and the poet!
- More beautiful than Venus standing on the world
And pouring the treasures of serenity
And the influence of his blond youth
The old Ocean delighted with his daughter;
More beautiful than Venus rising on the world!
- From Sappho who died the day of his blasphemy,
When insulting ritual and worship invented
She made her beautiful body Supreme pasture
On whose brutal pride punished impiety
Of which died the day of his blasphemy.
And it is from this time that Lesbos mourns,
And, despite the honors makes him the universe,
Gets drunk every night the cry of the storm
That grow to the skies its deserted shores.

And it is from this time that Lesbos mourns! Page 242

Damned women
Delphine and Hippolyte
In the pale light of the languid
On deep cushions impregnated odor
Hippolyte dreamed caresses the powerful
That lifted the curtain of his young innocence.
She sought, one eye disturbed by the storm,
Its simplicity already distant sky,
And a traveler who returns the head
Exceeded the morning to blue horizons.
From his eyes the tears amortized lazy
Air broken, stupor, dull pleasure,
His vanquished arms thrown as weapons in vain,
All served, all her fragile beauty. Page 243

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243
Extended to his feet, calm and full of joy,
Pondered her with burning eyes,
As a strong animal that monitors a prey,
After initially marked with teeth.
Strong kneeling before the frail beauty beauty
Superb, it smelled deeply
The wine of triumph, and was lying to her,
As to collect a sweet thank you.
She was looking in the eye of his pale victim

The silent hymn singing pleasure

And this infinite and sublime gratitude
Coming out of the lid and a long sigh.
- "Hippolyte, dear heart, what do you say these things?
Do you understand now that we should not offer
The Holocaust Sacred your first roses
Violent blows that could wither?
"My kisses are as light as these ephemeral
Caressing the evening large clear lakes,
And those of your lover tear their
As carts or plows heartbreaking; Page 244

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244
"They pass over you like a heavy duty hitch
Horses and cattle hoof mercilessly ...
Hippolyte, O my sister! So turn your face,
You, my soul and my heart, my everything and my other half,
"Turn to me thine eyes full of blue and stars!
For one of these charming eyes, divine balm
More obscure pleasures I will raise the sails,
And I fall asleep in a dream without end! "
But Hippolyte then, raising his young head:
- "I am not ungrateful and do not repent,
My Delphine, I suffer and I'm worried
As after a terrible night and meals.
"I feel heavy upon me terrors
And black battalions scattered ghosts,

Who want to take me to the changing routes

A bloody horizon farm everywhere.
"Have we made a strange action?
Explain, if you can, my confusion and my fear:
I shudder with fear when you say: "My Angel"!
And yet I feel my mouth go to you. Page 245

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245
"Do not look at me, you, my thought!
I love you forever, my sister election,
Still you'd be a snare drawn
And the beginning of my perdition! "
Delphine shook her tragic mane
And as stamping on iron tripod
The eye fatal, said a despotic voice
- "Who dares to love about hell?
"Cursed is the ever useless dreamer
Who wanted the first in its stupidity,
Espousing an insoluble problem and sterile,
In matters of love mix honesty!
"Whoever wants to join in a mystical agreement
The shadow with the heat at night with the day,
Never heat up the paralytic corps
A red sun that we call love!
"Go if you want, get a stupid fiance;
Courses offer a blank kisses his cruel heart;
And, full of remorse and horror, and livid

You'll bring me your breasts stigmatized ... Page 246

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246
"We can not settle down here one master! "
But the child, pouring out a huge pain,
Suddenly cried out - "I feel in my being to expand
A yawning abyss the abyss is my heart!
"Burning like a volcano deep as empty!
Nothing will satisfy this monster moaning
And refresh the thirst of the Eumenides
Who, torch in hand, burns up blood.
"Whether our curtains closed separate us from the world,
And fatigue leads the rest!
I want to destroy me in your deep throat,
And find your bosom freshness tombs! "
- Down, down, miserable victims
Walk down the path to eternal hell!
Dive deep into the abyss, where all crimes
Lashed by a wind that does not come from heaven,
Bubble jumble with a noise storm.
Shadows crazy, run to the goal of your desires;
You can never satisfy your rage,
And your punishment fruit of thy pleasures. Page 247

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247
Never cool your radius is lit caverns;

Through the cracks in walls miasma fever

Filter by igniting and lanterns
And penetrate your body their awful perfume.
The harsh sterility of your enjoyment
Your thirst and stiffens your skin
And the furious winds of lust
Smacking your flesh and an old flag.
Far from living people, wandering convicted
Through deserts run like wolves;
Make your destiny, disordered souls,
And escape infinity that you carry! Page 248

Lethe
Come to my heart, cruel, insensitive soul,
Tiger loved, monster indolent air;
I want long plunge trembling fingers
In the thickness of your heavy mane;
In your skirts redolent of your perfume
Bury my aching head,
And breathe like a wilted flower
The sweet smell of my late love.
I want to sleep! sleep rather than live!
In death as sweet as sleep
I will spread out my kisses without remorse
Your lovely polished like copper body.
To swallow my tears subsided
Nothing equals the abyss of your bed;
The powerful oblivion dwells upon your lips

And Lethe flows in your kisses. Page 249

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249
In my destiny, be my delight,
I will obey like a predestined;
Martyr docile, innocent condemned
Whose fervor aggravates the punishment
I suck, to drown my rancor
Nepenthe and the good hemlock
The ends of this charming acute throat
Who has never imprisoned heart. Page 250

A one that is too gay

Your head, your gesture, your air
Are beautiful like a beautiful landscape;
Laughter plays in your face
Like a fresh wind in a clear sky.
The way you brush against grief
Is dazzled by the health
Who resplendently
Your arms and your shoulders.
The sensational colors
Which you scatter your toilet
Throw in the minds of poets
The image of a flower dance.
These dresses are crazy emblem
Your mind variegated;

Mad I am distraught, Page 251

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251
I hate you as much as I love you!
Sometimes in a beautiful garden
I was hanging mon weakness,
I felt like an irony,
The sun tear my breast;
And spring and green
So mortified my heart
I punished on a flower
The insolence of Nature.
So I want one night,
When the hour of pleasure rings,
To the treasures of your person,
Like a coward, crawling noiselessly,
To punish your flesh joyful
To bruise your breast forgiven
And do your side surprised
A large wound and hollow
And dizzying sweetness!
Through these new lips
Brighter and more beautiful,
You infuse my venom, sister!
The Jewelry
The dearest was naked, and knowing my heart,
She had kept her sound jewelry

Whose rich trappings made him look winner

What in their happy day slaves of the Moors.
When he throws his lively dancing and mocking noise
This radiant world of metal and stone
Delights me in ecstasy, and I like the fury
Things which sound mingles with the light.
So she was lying down and let herself be loved,
And the top of the couch she smiled with delight
To my deep and sweet as love the sea,
Rising towards her as to a cliff.
Eyes on me, like a tamed tiger,
From a vague and dreamy air she tried poses,
And the United candor lust
Gave a new charm to its metamorphoses; Page 253

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253
And his arm and leg, and thigh and kidneys,
Polis like oil, undulating like a swan,
Passed before my eyes clairvoyant and serene;
And her belly and breasts, these clusters of the vineyard,
Were advancing, more hugs that evil Angels
To disturb the peace when my soul was set,
And disturb the rock crystal
Where, calm and solitary, she sat.
I thought I saw united by a new drawing
Hips of Antiope the bust of a beardless
As its size off her pelvis.

This tawny brown complexion and the makeup was superb!

- And the lamp being resigned to die,
As home alone illuminated the room,
Each time he pushed a flaming breath,
It flooded with blood that amber-colored skin! Page 254

Metamorphoses of the Vampire

The woman, however, her strawberry mouth,
Writhing like a snake on the coals,
And kneading her breasts on her iron busk
Dripped words imbued with musk
- "I am wet lips, and I know the science
Lost at the bottom of a bed of ancient consciousness.
I dry all tears on my breasts triumphant
And make old men laugh the laughter of children.
I substitute for seeing me naked and sails
The moon, the sun, the sky and the stars!
I am, my dear scholar, so learned the pleasures,
When I choke a man feared my arms,
Or when I give up my bust bites,
Shy and libertine, fragile and robust,
On these mattresses that swoon with excitement,
The powerless angels anything for me! " Page 255

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255
When she sucked my entire bone marrow,
And I languidly turned to her

To give him a kiss of love, I no longer live

An addition to the sticky sides, all full of pus!
I closed my eyes, in my cold terror,
And when I opened the living light,
At my side, instead of the powerful model
Which seemed to have blood supply,
Trembled vaguely debris skeleton
Who themselves made the cry of a vane
Or sign at the end of a rod of iron,
That balance the wind during the winter nights. Page 256

Galanteries
The water jet
Your beautiful eyes are tired, poor lover!
Stay long, without opening,
In this nonchalant pose
Where you surprised pleasure.
In the courtyard the fountain babbling
Never silent night or day,
Maintains gently ecstasy
Where tonight plunged me love.
The bouquet blooms
A thousand flowers,
Where Phoebe welcomed
Met its colors,
Falls like rain
Large tears. Page 257

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257
And your soul as fire
The hot flash of pleasure
Rushes, fast, bold,
To the vast enchanted skies.
Then she pours, dying,
In a flood of sad languor
That an invisible slope
Down to the bottom of my heart.
The bouquet blooms
A thousand flowers,
Where Phoebe welcomed
Met its colors,
Falls like rain
Large tears.
O thou that makes the night so beautiful,
It is sweet to me, leaning over your breasts,
To listen eternal complaint
Sobbing in the pools!
Moon, sound water, blessed night,
Frissonnez around trees,
Your pure sadness
Is a reflection of my love. Page 258

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258
The bouquet blooms

A thousand flowers,
Where Phoebe welcomed
Met its colors,
Falls like rain
Large tears. Page 259

Eye Berthe
You can despise the most famous eyes
Beautiful eyes of my child, where filter and fled
I do not know what's good, sweet like the Night!
Beautiful eyes, put me on your lovely darkness!
Eyes of my child loved mysteries,
You are much like those magical caves
Where behind the cluster of lethargic shadows,
Twinkle vaguely unknown treasures!
My child has dark, deep and wide eyes
Like you, great Night, lit like you!
Their lights are these thoughts of love, mixed with Faith
That sparkle in the background, voluptuous or chaste. Page 260

Anthem
A very expensive, in the beautiful
That fills my heart with light,
To the angel, the immortal idol
Salvation in immortality!
It spread through my life
As a briny breeze,
And in my soul unsatisfied

Verse taste the eternal.

Bag always fresh that perfumes
The atmosphere of a reduced price,
Forgotten censer smoking
Secretly through the night,
How incorruptible love,
Express yourself with truth?
Grain musk lying unseen,
At the bottom of my eternity! Page 261

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261
A very good, the beautiful
Who is my joy and health
To the angel, the immortal idol
Salvation in immortality!
Promises of a face
I love, O pale beauty, your eyebrows lowered,
Where darkness seems to flow;
Your eyes, although very black, inspire me with thoughts
Not at all funeral.
Your eyes, which are in agreement with your black hair,
Elastic with your mane
Your eyes languidly, tell me: "If you want,
Lover of plastic muse,
"Follow the hope that we have you excited,
And everyone you profess,
You can find our truth

From the navel to the buttocks;

"You will find after two heavy breasts,
Two large bronze medals
And in a united belly, soft as velvet,
Swarthy like the skin of a monk,
"A rich fleece that, really, is the sister
This huge hair
Soft and curly, and you equal in thickness,
Starless night, Dark Night! " Page 263

The monster or paranymph a macabre nymph

I
You're certainly not, my dear,
What Veuillot appoints tendron.
The game, love, good food,
Bubble in you, old pot!
You're not cool, my dear,
My old Infanta! Yet
Your senseless caravans
You gave it abundant luster
Things that are very worn,
But nevertheless appealing.
I is not monotonous
The greenness of your forty years;
I prefer your fruit, Autumn,
The ordinary flowers of Spring!
No, you're never boring! Page 264

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264
Your carcass amenities
And special graces;
I find it strange peppers
In the palm of your two salt
Your carcass of amenities!
Mocks lovers ridiculous
Melon and giraumont!
I prefer your clavicles
To those of King Solomon,
And I pity those silly people!
Your hair as a peacekeeper
Shade your face warrior,
Who thinks little and blushed,
And then flee from behind
As the bristles of a peacekeeper.
Your eyes seem to mud,
Where some flickering lantern,
Revived the shadow of your cheek,
Launch a vicious lightning!
Your eyes are as black as mud! Page 265

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265
By lust and disdain
Your lip causes us bitter;
This lip is an Eden

Attracts us and shocks us.

What luxury! and what disdain!
Your leg muscular and dry
Knows climb to the top of volcanoes,
And despite the snow and the Rocks
Dancing most spirited gossip.
Your leg is muscular and dry;
And without burning your skin smooth,
Like the old police,
Knows no more sweat
That your eye knows the tears.
(And yet it is sweet!)
II
Fool, you're leaving right the Devil!
I willingly go with you,
If this appalling speed
Did not cause me any emotion.
Go away then, alone, to hell! Page 266

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266
My kidney, my lungs, my knuckle
Do not let me pay tribute
So Lord, as it should.
"Alas! it's really a shame! "
Say my kidney and my knuckle.
Oh! I sincerely suffers
Not to go on the Sabbaths,

To see when he farts sulfur

How do you fuck her anyway!
Oh! sincerely I suffer!
I am terribly distressed
Not be your flare,
And ask you leave
Torch hell! Judge, my dear,
How I should be grieved,
Since long I love you,
Being very logical! In fact,
Wanting to get the cream of Evil
And like a perfect monster,
Yes really! old monster, I love you! Page 267

Franciscae Meae Lauds

Refer to the poem LX Page 268

Epigraphs
Go to the portrait of Mr. Honor Daumier
That we offer you the image,
And whose subtle art of all,
Teaches us to laugh at ourselves,
That one player is a wise man.
It is a satirical, mocking;
But the energy with which
He paints Evil and its sequel,
Shows the beauty of her heart.
His laugh is not grimace

Melmoth or Mephisto
Under the torch of Alecto
That burns, but we ice.
Their laughter, alas! the gaiety
Is that painful burden.
His rayon, frank and wide,
As a sign of his goodness! Page 269

Lola de Valence
Among the many beauties can be seen everywhere,
I understand, friends, that desire balance;
But we see flicker in Lola de Valence
The unexpected charm of a pink and black jewelry. Page 270

On cup prison Eugne Delacroix

The poet in jail, scruffy, sickly,
Rolling a manuscript under his convulsive foot
Measuring a look that ignites terror
The staircase of vertigo which damaged his soul.
The intoxicating laughs that fill the prison
To the strange and absurd invite his reason;
The environmental Doubt and ridiculous Fear
Hideous and multiform, flows around it.
This genie in unhealthy slums
These faces, these cries, these spectra with the swarm
Swirls, stirred up behind her ear,
This dream that the horror of his house up,
This well your emblem, Soul dreams to obscure

That the Real stifles between its four walls!

MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS
The Voice
My cradle leaned to the library,
Dark Babel, where novel, science, fable,
All the Latin and Greek ash dust
Mingled. I was high as a folio.
Two voices spoke to me. One, insidious and farm
Said: "The Earth is a cake full of sweetness;
I can (and your pleasure would be no end!)
Make you an appetite of equal size. "
And another: "Come! oh! just travel in dreams,
Beyond the possible, beyond the known! "
And this one was singing as the wind strikes,
Wailing ghost, no one knows where come
That caresses the ear and yet frightening.
I told you: "Yes! sweet voice! "It is then
What time can we, alas! my name wound
And my fate. Behind the scenes
The immense existence, darkest abyss,
I see distinctly singular worlds Page 273

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273
And my vision ecstatic victim
I hang snakes bite my shoes.
And it is since that time that, like the prophets,
I so dearly love the desert and the sea;

I laugh in the mourning and weeping in the holidays

And finds a sweet taste the bitter wine;
I take very often made to lie,
And the eyes, I fall into the holes.
But the Voice consoles me and said: "Keep your dreams:
The wise do not have as beautiful as the crazy! " Page 274

The Unexpected
Scrooge who watched his dying father
Says, dreamy, already before these white lips:
"We have enough in the attic,
It seems to me, old boards? "
Climne coos and says: "My heart is good,
And of course, God made me beautiful. "
- His heart! heart shriveled, like a smoked ham,
Annealed at the eternal flame!
A smoky gazetteer, who believes a torch
Said the poor, he drowned in darkness
"Where do you see him, the creator of this beautiful,
This Rectifier you famous? "
Better than all, I know some voluptuous
Yawning night and day, and laments and cries,
Repeating, the powerless and the fat: "Yes, I want
Being virtuous in an hour! " Page 275

The Flowers of Evil

275
The clock, in turn, whispered: "It is ripe,

The damned I warned in vain infected flesh.

The man is blind, deaf, frail like a wall
Who lives and eats an insect! "
And someone seems that all had denied
And told them, mocking and proud: "My ciborium
You have, I believe, quite Communion,
A joyful Black Mass?
"Each of you has made me a temple in his heart;
You, in secret, fucked my ass filthy!
Acknowledge Satan's winner laugh
Huge and ugly like the world!
"Have you then have thought, hypocrites surprised
That mocks the master, and with him is cheating
And it is natural to receive two awards
To go to heaven and be rich?
"We need the game pays the old hunter
Which long languished on the lookout for prey.
I'll take you through the thickness,
Companions of my sad joy Page 276

The Flowers of Evil

276
"Through the thickness of earth and rock
Through the confused mass of your ashes
In a country as big as me, one block palace
And that is not soft stone;
"Because it is made with the universal sin,
And contains my pride, my pain and glory! "

- However, at the top of the world perched,

An angel sounds the victory
Those whose heart says, "Blessed be your whip,
Lord! the pain, O Father, be blessed!
My soul in your hands is not a vain toy
And your care is infinite. "
The sound of the trumpet is so delicious,
In these solemn evening of heavenly harvest,
It seeps in ecstasy as all those
She sings the praises. Page 277

Ransom
The man has to pay his ransom,
Two fields in deep and rich tuff
He must stir and clearing
With the iron of reason;
For any pink
To extort a few ears,
Salty tears of his gray head
He must constantly watered.
One is art and the other love.
- To make the judge propitious
When strict justice
Appear the terrible day
It will show barns
Full of crops and flowers
Whose shapes and colors
Win the vote of the Angels. Page 278

At a Malabar
Your feet are as thin as your hands, and your hip
Is off to envy the most beautiful white;
A thoughtful artist your body is soft and expensive;
Your eyes velvet are blacker than your flesh.
The hot and blue when your God has led countries
Your task is to turn the pipe thy master
Fill the bottle with fresh water and odors,
To drive away the mosquitoes bed prowlers
And when the morning blackmailed plane,
To buy the bazaar pineapple and bananas.
All day, wherever you want, you lead your bare feet
And humming softly unknown old tunes;
And when evening falls the scarlet cloak,
You put your body gently on a mat
Where your dreams are full of floating hummingbirds,
And always, like you, gracious and flowers.
Why, happy child, do you see our France,
This country too crowded as mowing suffering
And, trusting your life with strong arms of sailors, Page 279

The Flowers of Evil

279
Make great farewell to your dear tamarins?
You dressed half muslins frail
Shivering there in the snow and hail,
As you cry your sweet leisure and francs

If the brutal corset trapping your flanks,

You had to glean your supper in our mire
And sell the perfume of your strange charms,
The thoughtful eye, and following in our dirty fogs
Coconuts absent scattered ghosts! Page 280

Desert
On the beginnings of Amina Boschetti
Thtre de la Monnaie in Brussels
Amina jumps - leaking - then aerobatics and smiled;
The Welshman said: "All this for me is the Prakrit;
I do not know, actually nymphs hedgerow,
As Montagne-aux-Herbes-vegetable. "
After the end of his foot and his eye laughs
Amina poured freely delirium and spirit;
The Welshman said: "Flee, false delights!
My wife has no such light speeds. "
You know, sylph hock triumphant
Who want to teach the waltz to the elephant,
The owl gaiety, laughter to the stork,
On grace in the late Welshman said: "Haro! "
And the soft side of him Bacchus burgundy,
The monster would say, "I prefer the faro! " Page 281

A Mr. Eugene Fromentin

About an intruder who said his friend
He told me he was very rich,
But he feared cholera;

- What was his gold chick,

But it tasted strong Opera;
- He delighted in nature,
Having known Mr. Corot;
- It did not encor car
But it would come soon;
- He loved the marble and brick,
Black wood and gilded wood;
- That he had in his factory
Three decorated foremen;
- He had, besides the rest,
Twenty thousand shares on the North;
- It was found, for a twist,
Oppenord of frames; Page 282

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282
- It would (albeit Luzarches!)
The bric-a-brac to the neck,
And that market Patriarchs
He had more than a good shot;
- He did not like his wife,
Neither his mother - but he believed
On the immortality of the soul,
And he had read Niboyet!
- He bent to physical love,
And in Rome, boredom stay
A woman, also consumptive,

Was died of love for him.

For three and a half hours
This talkative, came from Tournai
Out with me all his life;
I am appalled brain.
If I had to describe my pain,
It would be no end;
I thought, subduing my hate:
"At least if I could sleep! "
The Flowers of Evil
283
As one who is not at ease,
And who does not dare to go,
I rubbed my ass off my chair,
Dreaming to do impale.
This monster is called Bastogne;
He fled from the plague.
I flee until Biscay
Or I'll throw myself into the water,
If this Paris, he fears
When everyone will be returned
I still find my path
This scourge, a native of Tournai.
Brussels, 1865 Page 284

A sports cabaret
On the road to Brussels Uccle
You who are crazy skeletons

And hated emblems

To spice up the pleasures,
(Was it simple omelets!)
Old Pharaoh, O Monselet!
Faced with this unexpected sign,
I dreamed of you: A view
Cemetery, Estaminet. Page 285
Page 286

THE FLOWERS OF EVIL

(Contributions to the third edition, 1868)
Epigraph for a book condemned
Peaceful and bucolic player
Simple and naive good man,
Throw that saturnine book
Orgiastic and melancholy.
If you have not done your rhetoric
In Satan, Dean crafty
Jette! you would not understand
Or would you believe me hysterical.
But if, without leave charm,
Your eye can delve into the depths,
Read me, to learn to love me;
Curious soul who suffer
And keeps on seeking paradise
Pity me ... otherwise, I curse you! Page 287

Madrigal sad

I
What do I care that you're wise?
Be beautiful! and be sad! Crying
Add a charming face,
As the river landscape;
The storm rejuvenates flowers.
I love you especially when the joy
Fled from your forehead struck;
When your heart is drowning in horror;
When this is deployed on your
The ugly cloud of the past.
I love you when your great eye pays
Warm water as blood;
When, in spite of my hand that rocks you,
Your anguish, too heavy, piercing
As a groan of agony. Page 288

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288
I aspire divine pleasure!
Anthem deep, delicious!
All the tears of your chest,
And think your heart lights
Beads that pay your eyes!
II
I know your heart, full
Old loves uprooted
Encor blazes like a forge,

And you coming down in your throat

A little pride of the damned;
But as my dear, that your dreams
Have not reflected Hell
And what a nightmare truces
Thinking of poisons and swords
Enamored powder and iron
Not open to everyone with fear,
Deciphering the misfortune everywhere
Convulsant time when you tinkle,
You will not have felt the embrace
The irresistible Disgust Page 289

The Flowers of Evil

289
You can not be a slave queen
Who do not love me with dread,
In the horror of the night unhealthy
Say, the soul full cry:
"I am your equal, my King! "
Prayer of a pagan
Ah! do not slow down your flame;
Warms my heart numb,
Pleasure, torture souls!
Diva! supplicem EXAUDI!
Goddess in the common air,
Flame in the underground!
Hear a morfondue soul

Who consecrate a brazen song.

Pleasure, always be my queen!
Take the mask of a siren
Made of flesh and velvet,
Or pay me your heavy sleep
In wine informs and mystical
Pleasure, elastic ghost! Page 291

The Rebel
A furious angel background sky like an eagle,
The unbeliever enters full fist hair,
And said, shaking: "You will know the rule!
(For I am your guardian angel, do you hear?) I want it!
"Know that we must love, without a face,
The poor, the wicked, the crooked, the dazed
So that you can do to him when he goes,
A triumphant carpet with your love.
"This is Love! Before your heart be blase,
To the glory of God back on your ecstasy;
This is the true Pleasure to sustainable charms! "
And the angel, punishing all, my faith! he loves,
His fists giant torture anathema;
But the damned always replied: "I do not want! " Page 292

The Horn
Any man worthy of the name
A heart in a yellow snake,
Installed as on a throne,

Who, if he says: "I want! "Replied:" No! "

Dive in your eyes staring
The Satyr or Nixen
Dent said: "Think of your duty! "
Make children plant trees,
Polis worms, carved marble,
Dent said: "Will you live tonight? "
Anyway draft or hopes,
Man does not live a moment
Without incurring the warning
The unbearable Viper. Page 293

Meditation
Be wise, O my pain, and stand quieter.
Didst thou require the Night will come down, here it is:
A dark atmosphere envelops the city,
To some with peace, other concern.
While vile multitude of mortals,
Under the whip of pleasure, without the hangman thank you,
Will gather remorse in slavish party
My pain, give me your hand, come here,
Away from them. See to address the dead years
On the balconies of heaven, in old-fashioned dresses;
Out of the depths of the waters Regret smiling;
The dying sun is asleep under an arch,
And, as a long shroud trailing the East
Hear, my dear, hear the gentle Night works. Page 294

Lid
Wherever he goes, or at sea or on land,
In a climate of flame or under a white sun
Servant of Jesus, courtier Cythera
Beggar dark or shiny Croesus,
City, country, rover, sedentary,
His little brain is active or is slow,
Everywhere man undergoes the terror of mystery
And looks up with a trembling eye.
Above, the sky! this wall vault that stifles,
Illuminated by a ceiling opera bouffe
Where each actor crowd a bloody ground;
Terror libertine, hope the mad hermit
Heaven! black cover large pot
Where after the imperceptible and wide humanity. Page 295

Moon offended
O Moon quietly worshiped our fathers,
Top blue country where bright seraglio
The stars will follow in dapper paraphernalia,
My old Cynthia, lamp of our dens,
You see lovers on their successful pallets,
Their mouth while sleeping show fresh enamel?
The poet abut the front on his work?
Or in dry grass mate vipers?
Under your yellow domino, and a foot underground,
Will you, as before, from evening to morning
Kiss Endymion graces outdated?

- "I see your mother, child of the impoverished century

To which the mirror looks a heavy pile of years,
And plaster artistically breast that nursed you! " Page 296

The Chasm
Pascal had his abyss with him moving.
- Alas! Everything is abyss - Action, desire, dream,
Word! and my hair that stands up straight
Repeatedly of Fear I feel the wind pass.
Up, down, across, depth, strike,
The silence, the awful and addictive space ...
On the bottom of my nights God his scholarly finger
Draw a multifaceted and relentless nightmare.
I'm afraid of sleep as we are afraid of a large
[Hole,
Full of vague horror, leading nowhere;
I do not see that infinity through all the windows,
And my mind, haunted by vertigo,
Jealous of nothingness insensitivity.
- Ah! never out of Numbers and Beings! Page 297

The Complaints of Icarus

Lovers of prostitutes
Are happy, rested and well fed;
As for me, my arms are broken
For hugged clouds.
It is thanks to the stars nonpareils,
That at the bottom of the sky ablaze,

My eyes only see burnt

What memories of suns.
In vain I tried to space
Find the end and the environment;
As I do not know what eye of fire
I feel my wing is broken;
And burned by the love of beauty,
I will not honor sublime
To give my name to the abyss
Who will my grave.
The Midnight Review
The clock, ringing midnight
Ironically commits us
To remind us of what use
We made the fleeting day:
- Today fateful day,
Friday, thirteen, we have
Despite all that we know,
Led the process of a heretic.
We blasphemed Jesus
Of the most compelling Gods!
As a parasite to the table
Some monstrous Croesus
We have to appeal to the brute
Vassal worthy of Demons
Insulted that we love,
And flattered that repels us; Page 299

The Flowers of Evil

299
Grieved, servile executioner
The low that wrong is despised;
Welcomed the enormous stupidity,
Stupidity at the front of a bull;
Fucked stupid Material
With great devotion,
And putrefaction
Blessed the dim light.
Finally, we have to drown
Dizziness in delirium,
We pride priest Lyre
Whose glory is to deploy
Drunkenness funeral things,
Drinking without eating without hunger and thirst! ...
- Quickly blow out the lamp to
To hide in the darkness!
Far from here
This is the sacred box
Where this girl dressed very,
Quiet and always prepared
On the one hand fanning her breasts,
And his elbow into the cushions,
Listen cry basins: Page 300

The Flowers of Evil

300

This is the room of Dorothy.

- The breeze and the water sing off
Their hit song tears
To rock this spoiled child.
From top to bottom, with great care,
Its delicate skin is rubbed
On the fragrant oil and benzoin.
- Flowers swoon in a corner. Page 301

The Pipe of Peace

Imitated Longfellow
I
Or Gitche Manito, the Lord of life,
The Almighty came down in the green grass,
In the vast prairie hills to mountainous;
And there, on the rocks of the Red career,
Dominating the space and bathed in light,
He stood, large and majestic.
So he called the countless people,
More numerous than are the herbs and sand.
With his terrible hand he broke a piece
The rock, which he made a great pipe
Then, the stream, in a huge sheaf
To make a pipe, choose a long reed.
For the stuff he took the willow bark;
And he, the Almighty Creator of the Force Page 302

The Flowers of Evil

302
Standing, he lit like a lantern divine,
The Pipe of Peace. Standing on the career
He smoked, straight, beautiful and full of light.
However, for the nations was the big signal.
And slowly ascended the divine smoke
In the soft morning air, wavy, embalmed.
And first it was a dark path;
Then the steam became bluer and thicker,
Then bleached, and amount, and magnifying constantly
She went crashing to the hard ceiling of heaven.
More distant peaks of the Rocky Mountains,
From the lakes of the North to noisy waves
Since Tawasentha the valley unparalleled
Up Tuscaloosa, fragrant forest
All signal and saw the huge smoke
Amount peacefully in the ruddy morning.
The Prophet said: "Do you see this band
Steam, which, like the hand control
Oscillates and stands in black on the sun?
This is Gitche Manito, the Master of Life,
Who says the four corners of the vast prairie:
"I summon you all, warriors, my advice! '" Page 303

The Flowers of Evil

303
By way of the water, road plains,
By the four sides of the blow where breaths

Wind, all the warriors of every tribe, all

Including the signal of the cloud moves,
Obediently came to the Red Career
Where Gitche Manito gave their appointment.
The warriors stood on the green meadow,
All armed for war, and seasoned mine
And a colorful autumn foliage;
And hatred that made them fight all beings,
Hatred burning eyes of their ancestors
Encor their eyes blazed a fatal fire.
And their eyes were full of hereditary hatred.
However, Gitche Manito, the Lord of the Earth,
Considered them all with compassion,
As a good father, enemy of the disorder,
Who sees his dear little fight and bite.
Tel Gitche Manito for any nation.
Shewed them his powerful right hand
To subjugate their heart and their close nature,
To refresh their fever in the shadow of his hand;
Then he told them his glorious voice,
Similar to the voice of a turbulent water Page 304

The Flowers of Evil

304
Falls and makes a monstrous sound, superhuman!
II
"O my posterity, deplorable and darling!
O my son! listen to the divine reason.

This is Gitche Manito, the Master of Life,

Calling! who in your country
To put the bear, beaver, reindeer and bison.
"I made you hunting and fishing easy;
Why is he the hunter killer?
The marsh was populated by me volatile;
Why are you not happy, rebellious son?
Why is it the man hunting her neighbor?
"I'm really tired of your horrible wars.
Your prayers, your cards are the same packages!
The danger is contrary to you in your moods,
And it is in the union that is your strength. As brothers
Live then, and know you keep in peace.
"Soon you will receive from my hand a Prophet
Who will instruct you and suffer with you.
His speech will be a celebration of life; Page 305

The Flowers of Evil

305
But if you despise his perfect wisdom,
Poor children cursed, you will disappear all!
"Delete your deadly waves in colors.
The reeds are numerous and the rock is thick;
Everyone can draw from his pipe. More wars,
More blood! Now live as brothers
And all united smoke the Calumet of Peace! "
III
And suddenly all throwing their weapons on the ground,

Wash in the stream colors of war

Gleaming on their cruel and triumphant fronts.
Each hollow pipe and a pick on the shore
A long reed with address it embellishes.
And the Spirit smiled at her poor children!
Everyone went back, calm and happy soul,
And Gitche Manito, the Master of Life,
Ascended through the open door of heaven.
- Through the splendid steam cloud
The Almighty rose, happy with his work,
Huge, fragrant, gorgeous, gorgeous! Page 306

A Thodore de Banville
You grabbed the hairs of the Goddess
With such a wrist, that you had taken to see
And the air control and this beautiful nonchalance,
For a young ruffian slaying his mistress.
The clear and eye full of the fire of precocity
You have your pride basked architect
In buildings whose correct audacity
Shows what your age.
- Poet, our blood we fled from every pore Is there any chance the dress Centaur
Which changed the whole vein funeral Creek
Was color three times in subtle lava
These vindictive and monstrous reptiles
The little Hercules strangled in the cradle? Page 307
Page 308

FRAGMENTS AND DRAFT PREFACE

"Flowers of Evil"
FRAGMENTS
Bribes
PRIDE
Angels dressed in gold, purple and hyacinth.
The genius and love are easy Duties.
I kneaded the mud and I made gold.
There was strength in the eyes of his heart.
In Paris the desert living without hearth or home,
As strong as a beast, as free as God.
THE guzzler Page 309

The Flowers of Evil

309
I laugh in ruminant of hungry passersby.
I'll die like a shell,
If I soaked up like a canker.
His gaze was not lazy or timid,
But rather something exhaled greedy thing,
And as his nostril, the emotions expressed
Artists to the works of their hands.
Your youth will be more fruitful in storms
This heat wave to eyes full of lights
Who on our foreheads faded twists his arm sweating,
And blowing in the night his feverish breath,
Makes their frail bodies romantic girls

And makes the mirror, sterile pleasure,

Contemplating the ripe fruits of their virginity.
But I see the eye responsible for all Storms
That your heart is not made for peaceful holidays,
And this beauty, dark as iron,
Is one that forge and polish Hell
To complete a terrible day luxuries
Heart and grieve the humble creatures.
Collapsing under its weight a huge pillow Page 310

The Flowers of Evil

310
A beautiful body was there to see sweet slumber,
And adorned with a beautiful smile sleep
....................................
The rut of his back by the desire haunted.
The air was full of love rage;
Insects flying to the lamp and no wind
Did tremble curtain or awning.
It was a warm night, a true fountain of youth.
Grand angel wear on your proud face
The darkness of hell where you are mounted;
Tamer fierce and gentle that have put me in a cage
To use show your cruelty
Nightmare of my nights without Mermaid bodice
That pull me, still standing at my side,
For my dress or my holy beard wise
To give me a cheeky love poison;

.......................................
DAMNATION
The intricate and hard bench Page 311

The Flowers of Evil

311
Pass the narrow neck, the voracious maelstrom,
Agitate less sand and kelp impure
But where our hearts so much sky is reflected;
They are thrown into a noble and massive air
Where the lighthouse shines, beneficial feature,
But mine below the corrosive taret;
They can even compare to this inn
Hope hungry, where knocking on later
Wounded, broken, swearing, praying that the hosts,
The school, the prelate, the gouge and soldier.
They will not return in infected rooms;
War, science, love, nothing more than we want.
The hearth was cold, the beds and full of insects wine;
These visitors must serve on your knees!
SPLEEN Page 312

DRAFT PREFACE
France is going through a phase of vulgarity. Paris center
and radiation of universal stupidity. Despite Molire and
Beranger, we would never have believed that if France would
big train in the path of progress. - Questions of art,
terrae incognita.

The great man is stupid.

My book has been doing good. I do not grieve. He
been hurt. I do not rejoice.
The purpose of poetry. This book is not for my
women, daughters or sisters.
I was given all the crimes that I told.
Entertainment hatred and contempt. The elegiac
are scum. And Verbum caro factum is. But the poet
is of no advantage. Otherwise it would be a mere mortal.
The Devil. Original sin. Good man. If you
wanted, you'd be the favorite of the tyrant and it is more difficult
to love God than to believe in him. Instead, it is more
difficult for people of this age to believe that the devil
to love. Everyone feels and nobody believes.
Sublime subtlety of the devil. Page 313

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313
A soul of my choice. The decor. - Thus
novelty. - The Epigraph. - On Aurevilly's. - The
Renaissance. - Gerard de Nerval. - We are all
hanged or damnable.
I put some garbage to please the MM
journalists. They were ungrateful.
Preface Flowers
This is not for my wives, my daughters or my
sisters that this book was written, nor for
women, girls or sisters of my neighbor. I leave

this function for those who have an interest to confuse

good deeds with beautiful language.
I know the passionate lover of beautiful style is exposed to
the hatred of multitudes, but no human respect,
no false modesty, no coalition, no vote
Universal will compel me to speak patois
incomparable in this world, nor to confuse with ink
virtue.
Illustrious poets had long shared
most provinces poetic flowering field. He told me
seemed pleasant, and all the more enjoyable the task was
more difficult to extract beauty from evil. This book,
essentially useless and absolutely innocent, was not
made for a purpose other than to entertain me and my exercise
passionate love of the obstacle. Page 314

The Flowers of Evil

314
Some have told me that these poems could be
the evil I do not'm glad. Further, good
souls, they could do well, and it does not have me
afflicted. Fear of each other and hope I have
also surprised, and only served to prove to me once
more than this century had forgotten all notions
classic on the literature.
Despite the relief that some famous pedants have
made to the natural stupidity of man, I would
never thought our country could walk with such

velocity in the path of progress. This world has become a

thickness of vulgarity gives contempt for man
spiritual violence of passion. But there are
shells happy that the poison itself would begin
not.
I had originally intended to respond to
Many critics, and at the same time, explain
few simple questions, totally obscured
by modern light: What is poetry? What is
its purpose? Although the distinction of the Beautiful, the
Beauty in evil, that the rhythm and rhyme meet
in the immortal man needs monotony of
symmetry and surprise for the adjustment of style to the subject;
vanity and danger of inspiration, etc., etc... but
I had the imprudence to read this morning a few leaves
public and suddenly, indolence, the weight of twenty Page 315

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atmospheres has befallen me, and I stopped
before the awful futility explain anything
or to anyone. Those who know me guess, and
for those who can not or do not want to understand,
I amonclerais fruitless explanations.
CB
How, for a given series of efforts, the artist
may rise to a proportional originality;
How poetry related to music by

prosody with roots deeper into the soul

human than indicated by any classical theory;
French poetry that has a prosody
mysterious and unknown, as the Latin language and
English;
Why every poet, who does not know exactly how
every word has to rhyme, is unable to express
any idea;
The poetic phrase can mimic (and thus it
key to the art of music and mathematical science) the
horizontal line, the bottom line, the straight line
down, it can climb steeply to the sky without
shortness of breath, or down perpendicular to
hell with the velocity of all gravity; she can
follow the spiral describe the parabola, or zigzag contained
a series of overlapping angles; Page 316

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316
That poetry is related to the arts of painting,
food and cosmetics by the opportunity to express
any sensation of sweetness or bitterness, happiness
or horror, by coupling with noun such as
adjective, similar or otherwise;
How pressing my principles and with the
science I teach him in charge of twenty lessons
every man is able to compose a tragedy
which is not more than another piped, or aligning a

poem of the length needed to be boring

any epic known.
Difficult task than rise to this insensitivity
divine! For myself, despite best efforts, I
I could not resist the desire to please my contemporaries,
as evidenced in some places, attached as
an eye, some pandering addressed to the
democracy, and even some garbage to me
to forgive the sadness of me. But MM. the
journalists who are ungrateful to the caresses of
like this, I deleted the track as far as I was
possible, in this new edition.
I intend to check again excellence
my method of the future apply to the
celebration of the joys of devotion and drunkenness
of military glory, although I did have ever known. Page 317

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Note on plagiarism. - Thomas Gray. Edgar Allan Poe (2
passages). Longfellow (2 passes). Stace. Virgil (all
piece of Andromache). Aeschylus. Victor Hugo.
Draft preface to Les Fleurs du Mal
(A melt perhaps with old notes)
If there is any glory in being misunderstood, or not
be very little I can say without boasting that by this
little book, I have learned and earned in one fell swoop. Offered
repeatedly to various publishers who repelled

with horror, continued and mutilated in 1857, following a

very strange misunderstanding, slowly rejuvenated, and increased
fortified for a few years of silence, disappeared
Again, thanks to my carelessness, this discordant
Muse of the past few days, still heightened by some
new violent keys dares to confront today
for the third time, the sun of foolishness.
It's not my fault, it is that of an insistent editor
who feels strong enough to brave the public disgust. "It
book will remain throughout your life as a stain, "I
predicted from the beginning, one of my friends, which is
a great poet. In fact, all my mishaps him
have so far proved right. But I have one of these
happy characters who derive enjoyment of hatred and Page 318

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318
who pride themselves in contempt. My taste devilishly
passionate stupidity makes me feel the pleasures
individuals in the travesties of slander.
Chaste as the paper, simple as water, brought to the
devotion as a communicant, harmless as
a victim, he would not mind going for a
rake, a drunkard, an evil and a murderer.
My editor claims that there would be some benefit to
I like for him to explain why and how
I did this book, what were my goal and my ability,
my purpose and my method. Such a critical work

would probably have a few chances to entertain the minds

lovers of deep rhetorical. For those may
be I'll write more later and I'll take a dozen
copies. But a better review, it seems not
Obviously this would be a task quite unnecessary,
for one as for the other, since both
know or guess, and that others understand
ever? To instill in people the intelligence of an object
Art, I have too much fear of ridicule, and I fear,
in this matter, to match those utopians who want a
decree to all the rich French and a virtuous
once. And then my best because my supreme, is
it bothers me and I dislike. Does it lead the crowd in
workshops of the dresser and decorator in the lodge
the actress? Does it shows the distraught public today Page 319

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319
indifferent tomorrow, the mechanism of stuff? He explains
Are the alterations and variations in improvised
rehearsals, and what dose to instinct and sincerity
are mixed with headings and quackery
essential in the amalgam of the work? Does it reveal
we all ragged, makeup, pulleys, chains,
repentance, events smeared in short all
horrors that make up the sanctuary of art?
Moreover, this is not my mood today. I
did not desire to demonstrate, nor surprise, nor fun, nor

persuade. I have my nerves, my vapors. I aspire to a

absolute rest and continuous night. Bard of pleasure
crazy wine and opium, I have a thirst liquor
unknown on earth, and the heavenly pharmaceutical
itself could not offer me a liquor that
contain no vitality, nor death, neither excitement nor
nothingness. Know nothing, teach nothing, wanting nothing,
feel nothing, sleep and sleep again, so today
my only wish. Vow infamous and disgusting, but
sincere.
However, as a superior taste teaches us to
do not fear we contradict ourselves a little
I collected at the end of this abominable book, the
of sympathy for some of the men
I made as to an impartial reader can
infer that I am not absolutely worthy Page 320

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320
excommunication and having been able to love me
some, my heart, whatever has been said I do not know
printed cloth which has perhaps not "the terrible
ugliness of my face. "
Finally, in an unusual generosity, which MM. the
reviews ...
As ignorance is growing ...
I denounce myself imitations ...