Poemquotes 20: Two Poems from Baudelaire's "Spleen and Ideal"

  (my translations)

 

XXXVI. Le balcon

[36. The Balcony]

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,

O you, all my pleasures! o you, all my duties!

You'll recall the beauty of the caresses,

The gentleness of the hearth and the evenings' charm,

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!

The evenings illumined by the glow of the coal,

And the evenings on the balcony, veiled by rosy vapors.

How soft your breast was to me! how good your heart was to me!

Often we said imperishable things

On the evenings illumined by the glow of the coal.

How gorgeous are the suns in the warm evenings!

How profound is space! how powerful is the heart!

Leaning toward you, queen of the adored,

I thought I breathed the perfume of your blood.

How gorgeous are the suns in the warm evenings!

The night was growing dense, like a partition,

And my eyes in the darkness made out your pupils,

And I drank in your breath, o sweetness! o poison!

And your feet fall asleep in my fraternal hands.

The night was growing dense, like a partition.

I know the art of evoking happy minutes,

And relive my past nestled in your knees.

For what's the good in seeking your languorous beauties

Other than in your dear body and in your so gentle heart?

I know the art of evoking happy minutes!

These vows, these perfumes, these infinite kisses,

Will they be reborn from a gulf forbidden to our probings,

As the rejuvenated suns rise to heaven

Having been washed in the bottom of deep seas?

— O vows! o perfumes! o infinite kisses!

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XXXVII. Le possédé

[37. The Possessed One]

The sun was covered with a crêpe. Like him,

O Moon of my life! swaddle yourself in shadow;

Sleep as or smoke what you will; be mute, be somber,

And plunge wholly into the gulf of Ennui;

And so I love you! And yet, if today you'd like,

As an eclipsed star leaving the penumbra,

To swagger in the places Madness encumbers,

That's all well and good! Charming dagger, spring from your sheath!

Light your pupil with the flame of chandeliers!

Light desire in the gazes of boors!

All of you gives me pleasure, morbid or petulant;

Be what you will, black night, dawn red;

There's not one fiber in all my trembling body

That doesn't cry: O my dear Beelzebub, I adore you!

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