At One O’Clock In The Morning (Charles Baudelaire Poems)
Alone, at last! Not a sound to be heard but the rumbling of some belated and decrepit cabs. For a ...
Alone, at last! Not a sound to be heard but the rumbling of some belated and decrepit cabs. For a ...
? Maxime du CampIFor the child, in love with globe, and stamps,the universe equals his vast appetite.Ah! How great the ...
At last! I am alone! Nothing can be heard but the rumbling of a few belated and weary cabs. For ...
O you, the most knowing, and loveliest of Angels,a god fate betrayed, deprived of praises,O Satan, take pity on my ...
It is Death, alas, persuades us to keep on living:the goal of life and the only hope we have,like an ...
Pascal had his Void that went with him day and night.- Alas! It's all Abyss, - action, longing, dream,the Word! ...
A flirtatious woman's singular gazeas she slithers towards you, like the white raysthe vibrant moon throws on the trembling seawhere ...
ANDROMACHE, I think of you! The stream, The poor, sad mirror where in bygone days Shone all the majesty of ...
When, by decree of the supreme power, The Poet appears in this annoyed world, His mother, blasphemous out of horror ...
I love the naked ages long ago When statues were gilded by Apollo, When men and women of agility Could ...
UNDER the overhanging yews, The dark owls sit in solemn state, Like stranger gods; by twos and twos Their red ...
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