Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsMoesta Et Errabunda
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Moesta Et Errabunda Post by :silviu_2_il Category :Poems Author :Charles Baudelaire Date :November 2011 Read :1581

Click below to download : Moesta Et Errabunda (Format : PDF)

Moesta Et Errabunda

Translator: Cyril Scott


Oh, Agatha, tell! does thy heart not at times fly away?
Far from the city impure and the lowering sea,
To another ocean that blinds with its dazzling array,
So blue and so clear and profound, like virginity?
Oh, Agatha, tell! does thy heart not at times fly away?

The sea, the vast ocean our travail and trouble consoles!
What demon hath gifted the sea with a voice from on high,
To sing us (attuned to an Æolus-organ that rolls
Forth a grumbling burden) a lenitive lullabye?
The sea, the vast ocean our travail and trouble consoles!

Oh, carry me, waggons, oh, sailing-ships, help me depart!
Far, far, here the dust is quite wet with our showering tears,
Oh, say! it is true that Agatha's desolate heart,
Proclaimeth, "Away from remorse, and from crimes, and from cares,"
Oh, carry me, waggons, oh, sailing ships, help me depart!

How distant you seem to be, perfumed Elysian fields!
Wherein there is nothing but sunshine and love and glee;
Where all that one loves is so worthy, and lovingly yields,
And our hearts float about in the purest of ecstasy,
How distant you seem to be, perfumed Elysian fields!

But the green paradise of those transient infantile loves,
The strolls, and the songs, and the kisses, and bunches of flowers,
The viols vibrating beyond, in the mountainous groves,
With the chalice of wine and the evening, entwined, in the bowers,
But the green paradise of those transient infantile loves.

That innocent heaven o'erflowing with furtive delight,
Than China or India, is it still further away?
Or, could one with pityful prayers bring it back to our sight?
Or yet with a silvery voice o'er the ages convey
That innocent heaven o'erflowing with furtive delight!


(The end)
Charles Baudelaire's poem: Moesta Et Errabunda

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

The Ghost The Ghost

The Ghost
Translator: Cyril ScottJust like an angel with evil eye, I shall return to thee silently, Upon thy bower I'll alight, With falling shadows of the night. With thee, my brownie, I'll commune, And give thee kisses cold as the moon, And with a serpent's moist embrace, I'll crawl around thy resting-place. And when the livid morning falls, Thou'lt find alone the empty walls, And till the evening, cold 'twill be. As others with their tenderness, Upon thy
PREVIOUS BOOKS

To A Creolean Lady To A Creolean Lady

To A Creolean Lady
Translator: Cyril Scott In a country perfumed with the sun's embrace, I knew 'neath a dais of purpled palms, And branches where idleness weeps o'er one's face, A Creolean lady of unknown charms. Her tint, pale and warm--this bewitching bride, Displays a nobly nurtured mien, Courageous and grand like a huntsman, her stride; A tranquil smile and eyes serene. If, madam, you'd go to the true land of gain, By the banks of the verdant Loire or the Seine,
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT