Charles Pierre Baudelaire (April 9, 1821 – August 31, 1867) was a famous French poet and translator, the pioneer of symbolist poetry, the founder of modernist literature, and the originator of prose poetry. Born in Paris, France, Rue de la Coat, he began to write poetry at the age of 15, and later became famous in Paris for his literary criticism "Salon of 1845" and "Salon of 1846", lived an uninhibited and unstable mental state, and died of syphilis at the age of 46. He was called "the king of poets, the true god" by Rimbaud. His representative works include the poetry collection The Flower of Evil (1857) and the prose poetry collection The Melancholy of Paris (1869).
Cats
Serious scholars, as well as passionate couples, are equally fond of it in its ripening season.
Strong and gentle cats, the pride of the family, like them, afraid of the cold, simple out of the deep dwelling.
They are the companions of science and the best people, looking for seclusion and the fear of the night;
The darkness will be used as a mount for the **, if they can drive away the pride confession.
They meditate, that noble gesture.
Like a great sphinx lying in a secluded place, as if sleeping in an endless dream;
There was a magical glow on his plump waist, shards of gold, and fine grains of sand.
It also made the mysterious eyes shine with a hazy starlight.
Albatross
Sailors often catch albatrosses, birds of the sea, lazily chasing and accompanying travelers, while the ship glides into the bitter abyss.
As soon as the sailors laid it on the deck, these kings of the blue sky, clumsy and ashamed, pitifully lowered their snow-white wings, as if two oars were dragging them beside them.
How wilted this winged traveler is!
How fit it used to be, but now it's ugly and ridiculous!
Some sailors tease its beak with their pipes, and some lame learn from the crippled bird!
The poet is like this prince of the clouds, haunted by the storm, and dared to laugh at the archer;
Once it landed, it was tightly surrounded by boos, and its long feathers and wings made it difficult to walk.
should and
Naturally there are temples, where living pillars.
Sometimes he speaks in a slurred voice;
Man passes through there, through the symbolic forest, and the forest gazes upon him with a familiar gaze.
Like a long echo in the distance.
In a chaotic and deep unity.
The vastness is like a night with light
Aromas, colours and sounds are in harmony with each other.
Some are as fresh as a child's skin, as soft as an oboe, as verdant as a green meadow, while others are rotten and rich, encompassing all things, like something infinite and scattering like ambergris, musk, benzoin, frankincense.
Singing the excitement of spirit and feeling.
Life in the past
The grand colonnade, in which I have lived for a long time, is painted with fire by the sun of the sea, and the great stone pillars are so tall and solemn that at night they resemble the basalt caves.
The waves of the sea roll the images of the heavens, mixed in a solemn and mysterious way.
They are rich in the supreme harmony of **.
with the colorful sunset reflected in my eyes.
There, I swam in calm pleasure, surrounded by blue skies, waves, the magnificence of colors, and the scented **slaves who cooled my forehead with palm leaves, and their only concern was to probe deeply.
The secret of that pain that makes me languish.
Head hair
Oh, thick hair rolling straight up to the neck!
Oh, curls, oh, full of languid aromas!
Ecstasy!To make the dark bedroom tonight.
Let the memories that slumber in my hair go up, and I sway it in the air like a handkerchief.
Lazy Asia, scorching Africa, a world, distant, vanished, almost dead, this fragrant forest dwells deep in you!
Like someone else's spirit floats on the **, love!My spirit ripples in the aroma.
I'm going over there, and the trees and the people are full of energy, and they've been obsessed with the red sun for a long time;
Thick braids, please do carry my wave peak!
The ebony sea you hold dazzling dreams, where there are sails, oarsmen, masts and bunting;
The noisy port, where my soul.
Drink aromas, colours and sounds;
The boats march in ** and glitter, spreading their huge arms to kiss.
The glory that shook the hot clear sky.
I will bury my intoxicated head in this black ocean of sea, and my delicate spirit, with the caress of the rocking of the boat, will find you again, O bountiful weariness!
The endless swaying of the idleness of the aroma!
Blue hair, a dome open in the night.
Thou hast rounded the sky for me, and the fluff on the shore of thy hair has been fine, and I have reveled feverishly in the mixed aromas, which come from coconut oil, tar, and musk.
Long!Forever!Your hair is thick and thick, and my hands sow red sapphires and pearls, so that you will never refuse my desires!
You're an oasis for me?
Let me gulp the bottle of the wine of memory?
Balcony
My mother of memories, lover of lovers, all my joy, all my respect!
You, have you ever remembered the warmth of caresses, the warmth of the fireside, the charm of the twilight, the mother of my memories, the lover of lovers!
In those evenings, there was a roaring charcoal fire, and the dusk on the balcony was a rosy mist.
How warm your breasts are, how nice your heart is!
We often talk about things that are immortal.
In those evenings, there was a roaring charcoal fire.
How beautiful the sun is in the warm twilight!
How deep the universe is, how strong the heart!
I adore the Queen, and when I lean over to you, I seem to smell the fragrance of your blood, how beautiful the sun is in the warm twilight!
The night is getting thicker, as if the partition is slowly closed, secretly my eyes guess your eyes, I sip your breath, honey ah poison!
Your feet are in my loving hands.
The night was getting darker, as if the partition was slowly closed.
I know how to recall the happy hour, curl up in your lap, and I relive the past.
Because, your lazy beauty ** to find, in addition to your warm heart, lovely body?
I know how to reclaim the hour of happiness.
Those vows, fragrances, and endless kisses can be reborn in the unfathomable abyss, like bathing in the depths of the sea
The sun that has regained its youth has risen to the sky again
Those vows, the fragrance, the endless kisses.
Harmony of dusk
When the time came, the flowers trembled on the branches, and each one was like an incense burner
Sounds and aromas waft in the evening breeze;
Melancholy waltz, lazy vertigo!
Each one is like an incense burner, exuding fragrance;
The violin is like a wounded heart;
Melancholy waltz, lazy vertigo!
The sky was sad and beautiful, like a great altar.
The violin is like a wounded heart;
A gentle heart, abhorring the wide and black death!
The sky was sad and beautiful, like a great altar.
The sun sinks in its own coagulated blood.
A gentle heart, abhorring the wide and black death!
Contains all the traces of the glorious past!
The sun sinks in its own coagulated blood.
When I think of you, it's like seeing the Eucharist glow!
Scenery
For chastity to be my pastoral, I will.
Lie beside heaven, like an astrologer, and take the bell tower as your neighbor, dreaming and listening.
The solemn bell of praise sent by the wind.
With my chin in my hands, from the top floor, I looked out at the workshop where singing and chatting;
The chimneys and bell towers, the masts of these cities, and the sky that makes people dream of eternity.
It's so pleasant, looking through the mist.
The blue sky gives birth to stars, the windows reveal lights, the sooty rivers rise high into the sky, and the moon casts its enchanting paleness.
I will also be watching for spring, summer and autumn;
When winter comes in with a monotonous snow, I close the doors and windows everywhere and build the mansion of my fairyland in the dark.
Then I will dream of the blue horizon, the garden, the fountain whimpering in the white stone pool, the kissing, the birds chirping morning and evening, and all the most innocent of pastoral songs.
* Screaming in vain at my window won't let me look up from my desk;
For I was already intoxicated with joy, but by my will I awakened the spring, and pulled out the red sun from my heart, and turned my fiery thoughts into warmth.
Exotic aromas
On a sweltering autumn night, I closed my eyes and breathed in the fragrance of your hot breasts, and I saw the blissful shore stretching out into the distance, and the monotonous sun shone on it
A lazy island, dedicated by nature.
Peculiar trees, delicious fruits, slender men with strong limbs, and women with astonishing confessional eyes.
Led to a charming place by your fragrance, I saw a harbor, full of sails and masts, all still tossed in the waves of the sea, and at the same time the fragrance of green tamarind
Floating in the air and filling my nostrils, in my heart and singing of the sailor.
Translated |Guo Hongan.