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THE REMORSE OF THE DEAD by Charles Baudelaire

by restmlin

by Charles Baudelaire

SHADOWY Beauty mine, when thou shalt sleep
In the deep heart of a black marble tomb;
When thou for mansion and for bower shalt keep
Only one rainy cave of hollow gloom;

And when the stone upon thy trembling breast,
And on thy straight sweet body’s supple grace,
Crushes thy will and keeps thy heart at rest,
And holds those feet from their adventurous race;

Then the deep grave, who shares my reverie,
(For the deep grave is aye the poet’s friend)
During long nights when sleep is far from thee,

Shall whisper: “Ah, thou didst not comprehend
The dead wept thus, thou woman frail and weak”–
And like remorse the worm shall gnaw thy cheek.

from the wonderful Les Fleus du Mal (The Flowers of Evil)

Read more here: fleursdumal …this great site claims to have;

the definitive online edition of this masterwork of French literature, contains every poem of each edition of Les Fleurs du mal, together with multiple English translations — most of which are exclusive to this site and are now available in digital form for the first time ever.

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September 24, 2008 Posted by | Charles Baudelaire, _ART, _POETRY | Leave a comment