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A poem by Charles Baudelaire |
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Autumn Song [Shortly we will plunge within the frigid gloom] |
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Title: Autumn Song [Shortly we will plunge within the frigid gloom] Author: Charles Baudelaire [More Titles by Baudelaire] Translator: Cyril Scott I Shortly we will plunge within the frigid gloom, The whole of winter enters in my Being--pain, I listen trembling unto every log that falls, Meeseemeth--as to these monotonous blows I sway,
I love within your oblong eyes the verdant rays, And yet bemother and caress me, tender heart! Ephemeral task! the beckoning the beckoning empty tomb is set! [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |