By Charles Baudelaire
Baudelaire's Fleurs du Mal, which in successive variations contained all of his released poems, has opened new vistas for man's mind's eye and quickened the sensibilities of poets everywhere.The maximum French poet of the nineteenth century, Baudelaire used to be additionally the 1st really modem poet, and his direct and oblique impact at the literature of our time has been immeasurable.
Flowers of Evil: a variety includes fifty three poems which the editors suppose most sensible symbolize the complete paintings and which. of their opinion, were such a lot effectively rendered into English. The French texts as tested through Yves Gérard Le Dantec for the Pléiade version are published en face. integrated are Baudelaire's "Three Drafts of a Preface" and short notes at the nineteen translators whose paintings is represented.
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Additional resources for Flowers of Evil: A Selection
For example, While my foot was asleep, I sent All of my memories south. While My scalp prickled with beads of sweat, I sent my love north to cool, and later, While my brain was entranced with Commercials on television, I sent those Mysterious 21 grams of my soul, which I Read about in Time magazine, straight Out of this world—Way further than Mexico, China, Pakistan, or anywhere anyone has ever Heard of. Gone—Vanished—just like that! When all was said and done, very little Of the old me was left.
I keep Looking back for that one small piece Of stone that is the future. 27 In Heidelberg In Heidelberg, I walk in the darkness Of the old Schloss dungeon. I am looking for my life Among the broken bones and stones In the ruins of my own history, And within the quietness of myself. I think there might be buried here, In Heidelberg, a story for me To rebuild my life. Here, Underneath this rubble and darkness— Free from all wars. We’re all just water passing Through like this old river In Heidelberg.
They will settle To the bottom—salty Bones in another Middle Passage. This humidity is rising Up across America— Shadows hiding our ancestors: While broken bodies drift and Lost souls drown again in the old Lies of familiar darkness. 44 IV Wide Awake in Someone Else’s Dream Soon stars will nest in the brow of the tired; A quiet simplicity enters cool chambers And angels step soundlessly from the blue —Georg Trakl, “Autumn of the Lonely One” When the lights go out and the house is dark And you feel alone, you will ﬁnd a spark There is a place where I come from There is a faith in what we’ve done I want to live between the ground and God —Stewart Francke, “Between the Ground and God” This page intentionally left blank Making It Right (Lines composed after being asked to lecture on labor in Detroit during the Depression at the Amerika Haus Lecture Series in Munich, Germany 2004) You know what work is—if you’re old enough to read this you know what work is, although you may not do it.
Flowers of Evil: A Selection by Charles Baudelaire