by Charles Baudelaire, translated to English by John Collings Squire
Like the mild-eyed angels sweet
I will come to thy retreat,
Stealing in without a sound
When the shades of night close round.
I will give thee manifold
Kisses soft and moony-cold,
Gliding, sliding o’er thee like
A serpent crawling round a dike.
When the livid morn creeps on
You will wake and find me gone
Till the evening come again.
As by tenderness and ruth
Others rule thy life and youth,
I by terror choose to reign.
|Blossoms of Evil (1857)|
by Charles Baudelaire - Translated by John Collings Squire
|CAUSERIE||THE SADNESS OF THE MOON|