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{{Titre|Harmony of Evening|[[Baudelaire]]|Translation A.S. Kline}}
{{header
<div class=text>
|title=[[The Flowers of Evil]]
 
|author=Charles Baudelaire
|section=Harmony of Evening
|previous=
|next=
|notes=Translation [[A. S. Kline]]
}}




<div class="verse">
   
   
:Now those days arrive when, stem throbbing,
:Now those days arrive when, stem throbbing,
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:languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!
:languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!




:Each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
:Each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
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:languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!
:languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!
:the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar.
:the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar.
   
   


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:the sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing.
:the sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing.




:A heart, hating the vast black void, so tender:
:A heart, hating the vast black void, so tender:

Revision as of 11:31, 21 June 2007

The Flowers of Evil
Harmony of Evening
written by Charles Baudelaire
Translation A. S. Kline




Now those days arrive when, stem throbbing,
each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
sounds and scents twine in the evening air:
languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!


Each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
the violin quivers, a heart that’s suffering:
languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!
the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar.


The violin quivers, a heart that’s suffering:
a heart, hating the vast black void, so tender!
the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar:
the sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing.


A heart, hating the vast black void, so tender:
each trace of the luminous past it’s gathering!
The sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing…
A vessel of the host, your memory shines there.