THE FOUNTAIN poem by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE (The Flowers of Evil) text ENG

 

 

 

Charles Baudelaire

 

The fountain

(The flowers of evil)

 

 

 

My poor mistress!

your lovely eyes Are tired,

leave them closed and keep

For long the nonchalant pose

In which pleasure surprised you.

 

 

In the court the bubbling fountain

That’s never silent night or day

Sweetly sustains the ecstasy

Into which love plunged me tonight.

 

The sheaf unfolds into

Countless flowers

In which joyful Phoebe

Puts her colors:

It drops like a shower

Of heavy tears.

 

 

Thus your soul which is set ablaze

By the burning flash of pleasure

Springs heavenward, fearless and swift,

Toward the boundless, enchanted skies.

 

And then it overflows, dying

In a wave of languid sadness

That by an invisible slope

Descends to the depths of my heart.

 

 

The sheaf unfolds into

Countless flowers

In which joyful Phoebe

Puts her colors:

It drops like a shower

Of heavy tears.

 

 

Oh you whom the night makes so fair,

How sweet, bending over your breast,

To listen to the endless plaint

Of the sobbing of the fountains!

 

Moon, singing water, blessed night,

Trees that quiver round about us,

Your innocent melancholy

Is the mirror of my love.

 

 

The sheaf unfolds into

Countless flowers

In which joyful Phoebe

Puts her colors:

It drops like a shower

Of heavy tears.

..

.

Charles Baudelaire – The fountain

(from: The flowers of evil)

 

 

 

 

Charles Baudelaire

All the poems

 

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Charles Baudelaire

Biography

 

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