Une Charogne (Charles Baudelaire Poem)
Rappelez-vous l'objet que nous vîmes, mon âme, Ce beau matin d'été si doux : Au détour d'un sentier une charogne ...
Rappelez-vous l'objet que nous vîmes, mon âme, Ce beau matin d'été si doux : Au détour d'un sentier une charogne ...
I. Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak, ``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing As ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
As evening falls, And the yellow lights leap one by one Along high walls; And along black streets that glisten ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
The snow floats down upon us, mingled with rain . . . It eddies around pale lilac lamps, and falls ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Mist clogs the sunshine. Smoky dwarf houses Hem me round everywhere; A vague dejection Weighs down my soul. Yet, while ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
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