Evening Harmony
Evening Harmony
Charles Baudelaire
The hour approacheth, when, as their stems incline,
The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,
And sounds and scents in the vesper breezes turn;
A melancholy waltz--and a drowsiness divine.
The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,
The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine.
A melancholy waltz--and a drowsiness divine,
The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern.
The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine;
Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,
The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern,
The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine.
Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,
Essay the wreaths of their faded Past to entwine,
The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine,
Thy thought within me glows like an incense urn.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
From The Flowers of Evil (Les Fleurs du mal), tr. 1909. Translation in the public domain. · Translated by Cyril Scott
