 |
007 Livre Charles Baudelaire Les Fleurs du Mal 1868 |
| SPLEEN ET IDÉAL |
|
LXII FRANCISCÆ MEÆ LAUDES Novis te cantabo chordis, O novelletum quod ludis In solitudine cordis. Esto sertis implicata, O fœmina delicata Per quam solvuntur peccata ! Sicut beneficum Lethe, Hauriam oscula de te, Quæ imbuta es magnete. Quum vitiorum tempestas Turbabat omnes semitas, Apparuisti, deitas, Velut stella salutaris In naufragiis amaris… Suspendam cor tuis aris ! Piscina plena virtutis, Fons æternæ juventutis, Labris vocem redde mutis ! Quod erat spurcum, cremasti ; Quod rudius, exæquasti ; Quod debile, confirmasti ! In fame mea taberna, In nocte mea lucerna, Recte me semper guberna. Adde nunc vires viribus, Dulce balneum suavibus Unguentatum odoribus ! Meos circa lumbos mica, O castitatis lorica, Aqua tincta seraphica ; Patera gemmis corusca, Panis salsus, mollis esca, Divinum vinum, Francisca ! |
|
In Praise of My Frances I’ll sing to you on a new note, O young hind that gambols gaily In the solitude of my heart. Be adorned with wreaths of flowers, O delightful woman By whom our sins are washed away ! As from a benign Lethe, I shall drink kisses from you, Who were given a magnet’s strength. When a tempest of vices Was sweeping down on every path, You appeared, O divinity ! Like the star of salvation Above a disastrous shipwreck... I shall place my heart on your altar ! Reservoir full of virtue, Fountain of eternal youth, Restore the voice to my mute lips ! You have burned that which was filthy, Made smooth that which was rough, Strengthened that which was weak. In my hunger you are the inn, In the darkness my lamp, Lead me always on virtue’s path. Add your strength now to my strength, Sweet bath scented With pleasant perfumes ! Shine forth from my loins, O cuirass of chastity, That was dipped in seraphic water, Cup glittering with precious stones, Bread seasoned with salt, delectable dish, Heavenly wine – My Frances. – William Aggeler, 1954 Praises of My Francisca (Verses to a learned and devout Milliner) Upon new chords of you I sing. And the new-born bud you bring From solitude, the pure heart’s Spring. Your brows should be with garlands twined Woman of delightful mind, Who our trespasses unbind. As the wondrous balm of Lethe, Through thy kisses, I will breathe thee. All are magnetised who see thee. When my vices, wild and stormy, From my wonted courses bore me It was You appeared before me, Star of Oceans ! you that alter Courses, when the pilots falter – Take my heart upon your altar. Cistern full of virtuous ruth, Fountain of eternal youth, Give to dumbness speech and truth ! What was dirty, you cremated, What uneven – you equated, What was weak you re-created. Inn, on the hungry roads I tramp, And, in the dark, a guiding lamp To steer the lost one back to camp. To my strength add strength, O sweet Bath, where scents and unguents meet ! Anoint me for some peerless feat ! Holy water most seraphic, On the lusts in which I traffic Flash your chastity ecstatic. Bowl of gems where radiance dances. Salt that the holy bread enhances, And sacred wine – your name is Frances ! – Roy Campbell, 1952 |
|
Charles Baudelaire Les Fleurs du Mal |