Voici venir les temps o? vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s’?vapore ainsi qu’un encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir;
Valse m?lancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s’?vapore ainsi qu’un encensoir;
Le violon fr?mit comme un coeur qu’on afflige;
Valse m?lancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon fr?mit comme un coeur qu’on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le n?ant vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;
Le soleil s’est noy? dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le n?ant vaste et noir,
Du pass? lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s’est noy? dans son sang qui se fige…
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
Evening Harmony
The season is at hand when swaying on its stem
Every flower exhales perfume like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
Every flower exhales perfume like a censer;
The violin quivers like a tormented heart;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an immense altar.
The violin quivers like a tormented heart,
A tender heart, that hates the vast, black void!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an immense altar;
The sun has drowned in his blood which congeals…
A tender heart that hates the vast, black void
Gathers up every shred of the luminous past!
The sun has drowned in his blood which congeals…
Your memory in me glitters like a monstrance!
– Translated by William Aggeler
Evening Harmony
Now comes the eve, when on its stem vibrates
Each flower, evaporating like a censer;
When sounds and scents in the dark air grow denser;
Drowsed swoon through which a mournful waltz pulsates!
Each flower evaporates as from a censer;
The fiddle like a hurt heart palpitates;
Drowsed swoon through which a mournful waltz pulsates;
The sad, grand sky grows, altar-like, immenser.
The fiddle, like a hurt heart, palpitates,
A heart that hates oblivion, ruthless censor.
The sad, grand sky grows, altar-like, immenser.
The sun in its own blood coagulates…
A heart that hates oblivion, ruthless censor,
The whole of the bright past resuscitates.
The sun in its own blood coagulates…
And, monstrance-like, your memory flames intenser!
– Translated by Roy Campbell
Harmonie du soir
the hours approach when vibrant in the breeze,
a censer swoons to every swaying flower;
blown tunes and scents in turn enchant the bower;
languorous waltz of swirling fancies these!
a censer swoons in every swaying flower;
the quivering violins cry out, decrease;
languorous waltz of swirling fancies these!
mournful and fair the heavenly altars tower.
the quivering violins cry out, decrease;
like hearts of love the Void must overpower!
mournful and fair the heavenly altars tower.
the drowned sun bleeds in fast congealing seas.
a heart of love the Void must overpower
peers for a vanished day’s last vestiges!
the drowned sun bleeds in fast congealing seas…
and like a Host thy flaming memories flower!
– Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks
Evening Harmony
Now is the time when trembling on its stem
Each flower fades away like incense;
Sounds and scents turn in the evening air;
A melancholy waltz, a soft and giddy dizziness!
Each flower fades away like incense;
The violin thrills like a tortured heart;
A melancholy waltz, a soft and giddy dizziness!
The sky is sad and beautiful like some great resting-place.
The violin thrills like a tortured heart,
A tender heart, hating the wide black void.
The sky is sad and beautiful like some great resting-place;
The sun drowns itself in its own clotting blood.
A tender heart, boring the wide black void,
Gathers all trace from the pellucid past.
The sun drowns itself in clotting blood.
Like the Host shines O your memory in me!
– Translated by Geoffrey Wagner
Evening Harmony
The hour has come at last when, trembling to and fro,
Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
The scent and sounds all swirl in evening’s gentle fume;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!
Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
A violin’s vibrato wounds the heart of woe;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!
The sky, a lofty altar, lovely in the gloom,
A violin’s vibrato wounds the heart of woe,
A tender heart detests the black of nullity,
The sky, a lofty altar, lovely in the gloom;
The sun is drowning in the evening’s blood-red glow.
A tender heart detests the black of nullity,
And lovingly preserves each trace of long ago!
The sun is drowning in the evening’s blood-red glow .
Your memory shines through me like an ostensory!
Translated by Anonymous
(Charles Baudelaire)
More Poetry from Charles Baudelaire:
Charles Baudelaire Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Love, Flowers, Sons, Time, Past, Boredom, Liberty & Freedom- B (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
- A Une Madone (To A Madonna) (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
- Chanson d'Apr (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
- Chant d'automne (Song Of Autumn) (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
- Ch (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
- Causerie (Conversation) (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Sadness Poems, Time Poems, Flowers Poems, Past Poems, Sons Poems, Liberty & Freedom Poems, Boredom PoemsBased on Keywords: fleur, vertigo, soir, pellucid, noir, vestiges, lewis, harmonie, wagner, swoons, chaque