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Harmonie du Soir

Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir,
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
— Charles Baudelaire
Now in English...
Evening Harmony
The season is at hand when swaying on its stem
Every flower exhales perfume like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!

Every flower exhales perfume like a censer;
The violin quivers like a tormented heart;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an immense altar.
The violin quivers like a tormented heart,
A tender heart, that hates the vast, black void!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an immense altar;
The sun has drowned in his blood which congeals...
A tender heart that hates the vast, black void
Gathers up every shred of the luminous past!
The sun has drowned in his blood which congeals...
Your memory in me glitters like a monstrance!






"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool."- William Shakespeare

7 comments:

Even in English - this is very vivid.

November 17, 2009 at 7:26 AM  

Glorios imagery...ddnt understand d othr lang.But in Eng it ws very clear.Come my new poem on my blog.

November 18, 2009 at 11:01 PM  

Bill Shakey indeed!

December 3, 2009 at 10:46 AM  

This is just beyong.

December 7, 2009 at 12:30 AM  

v cool-like the quote too xo

December 14, 2009 at 7:55 PM  

It's such a beautiful poem, and it just rolls of the tongue… "The season is at hand when swaying on its stem/Every flower" ^^

And yeah, living without commodities totally sucks, but you never really realise it until they're gone…:)

December 15, 2009 at 1:57 AM  

Had never read a Dickens poem...thanks!!

April 17, 2010 at 10:29 PM  

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