Charles Baudelaire
Les Fleurs du Mal XLVII
Harmonie du Soir
Now comes the time when, quavering on its stem
Each flower exhales like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes spiral in the evening air;
Melancholy valse and vertigo of languor!
Each flower exhales like a censer;
The violin shudders like a heart in torment;
Melancholy valse and vertigo of languor!
The sky is a high altar both beautiful and sad.
The violin shudders like a heart in torment,
A tender heart, terrified of the Void vast and dark!
The sky is a high altar both beautiful and sad;
The ensanguined sun has drowned in blood.
A tender heart, terrified of the Void vast and dark,
Into which the luminous past vanishes without trace!
The ensanguined sun has drowned in blood…
Your memory shines within me like a monstrance!
translated by AC 1999
Illustration: Portait of Baudelaire in 1861 (1995)
from a photograph by Carjat
