Works

I'm like some king in whose corrupted veins
Flows ag'd blood; who rules a land of rains;
Who, young in years, is old in all distress;
Who flees good counsel to find weariness...

Pluvi'se, irrit' contre la ville enti're,
De son urne ' grands flots verse un froid t'n'breux
Aux p'les habitants du voisin cimeti're
Et la mortalit' sur les faubourgs brumeux.
...

J'ai plus de souvenirs que si j'avais mille ans.

Un gros meuble ' tiroirs encombr' de bilans,
De vers, de billets doux, de proc's, de romances,
Avec de lourds cheveux roul's dans des quittances,...

Je suis comme le roi d'un pays pluvieux,
Riche, mais impuissant, jeune et pourtant tr's-vieux,
Qui, de ses pr'cepteurs m'prisant les courbettes,
S'ennuie avec ses chiens comme avec d'autres b'tes....

Quand le ciel bas et lourd p'se comme un couvercle
Sur l'esprit g'missant en proie aux longs ennuis,
Et que de l'horizon embrassant tout le cercle
Il nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits;
...

What, then, has God to say of cursing heresies,
Which rise up like a flood at precious angels' feet?
A self-indulgent tyrant, stuffed with wine and meat,
He sleeps to soothing sounds of monstrous blasphemies....

'From that sky livid, bizarre
as your tortured destiny,
what thoughts fill your empty heart,
Freethinker, answer me.'

Insatiable and avid
for vague and obscure skies,...

That kind heart you were jealous of, my nurse
Who sleeps her sleep beneath the humble turf,
I'd like to give her flowers, wouldn't you?
The dead, the poor dead, have their sorrows too,...

Often, to amuse themselves, the crew of the ship
Would fell an albatross, the largest of sea birds,
Indolent companions of their trip
As they slide across the deep sea's bitters.
...

One man lights you with his ardour
one decks you in mourning, Nature!
What says to the first: 'A Sepulchre!'
To the other cries: 'Life and splendour!'


Unknown Hermes, who assists,...

On the great walls of ancient cloisters were nailed
Murals displaying Truth the saint,
Whose effect, reheating the pious entrails
Brought to an austere chill a warming paint.
...

Other of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O thou, my pleasure, thou, all my desire,
Thou shalt recall the beauty of caresses,
The charm of evenings by the gentle fire,...

Ubens, oblivious garden of indolence,
Pillow of cool flesh where no man dreams of love,
Where life flows forth in troubled opulence,
As airs in heaven and seas in ocean move.
...

Consider them, my soul, they are a fright!
Like mannequins, vaguely ridiculous,
Peculiar, terrible somnambulists,
Beaming - who can say where - their eyes of night.
...

Hate is the cask of the Dana'des;
Vengeance, distraught, has red and brawny arms,
With which she hurls into her empty dark
Buckets of blood and tears from dead men's eyes.
...

Come, my fine cat, to my amorous heart;
Please let your claws be concealed.
And let me plunge into your beautiful eyes,
Coalescence of agate and steel.

When my leisurely fingers are stroking your head...

The Clock! a sinister, impassive god
Whose threatening finger says to us: 'Remember!
Soon in your anguished heart, as in a target,
Quivering shafts of Grief will plant themselves;
...

How penetrating is the end of an autumn day! Ah, yes, penetrating enough to be painful even; for there are certain delicious sensations whose vagueness does not prevent them from being intense; and none more keen than the perce...

How bittersweet it is on winter nights
To hear old recollections raise themselves
Around the flickering fire's wisps of light
And through the mist, in voices of the bells.
...

Carrying bouquet, and handkerchief, and gloves,
Proud of her height as when she lived, she moves
With all the careless and high-stepping grace,
And the extravagant courtesan's thin face.
...