Charles Pierre Baudelaire was a French poet who also produced notable work as an essayist, art critic, and pioneering translator of Edgar Allan Poe. Wikipedia We shall have beds filled with light odours, couches deep as tombs, and, set out on shelves, rare flowers which bloomed for us under more beautiful skies. Vying to use up their last heats, our hearts will be two great torches, which will reflect their double...
Read MoreHow I love to look, dear indolent one, at your beautiful body and see, like a shot silk, the changing gleam of your skin! On your deep hair, with its bitter perfumes, a scented and wandering sea of blue and brown waves, Like a ship stirring with...
Read MoreBut the real travelers are those who leave for leaving’s sake; their hearts are light as balloons, they never diverge from the path of their fate and, without knowing why, always say, ‘Let’s go.’ They are the ones whose desires have the shape of clouds, and...
Read MoreIt is Death which consoles men, alas, and keeps them alive. Death is the aim of life; it is the only hope which, like an elixir, raises our spirits and intoxicates us, and gives us the heart to march until evening; Through the storm, and the...
Read MoreUnder a bleak white light she runs, dances and writhes without reason – Life, shameless and shrill. And so, as soon as on the horizon Voluptuous night rises, calming everything, even hunger, blotting out everything, even shame, the Poet says to himself, ‘At last! ‘My spirit, like...
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