On the great walls of ancient cloisters were nailed
Murals displaying Truth the saint,
Whose effect, reheating the pious entrails
Brought to an austere chill a warming paint.
In the times when Christ was seeded around,
More than one illustrious monk, today unknown
Took for a studio the funeral grounds
And glorified Death as the one way shown.
-My soul is a tomb, an empty confine
Since eternity I scour and I reside;
Nothing hangs on the walls of this hideous sty.
O lazy monk! When will I see
The living spectacle of my misery,
The work of my hands and the love of my eyes?
(Charles Baudelaire)
More Poetry from Charles Baudelaire:
Charles Baudelaire Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Soul, Love, Christianity, Jesus Christ, Work & Career- 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, Soul Poems, Christianity Poems, Jesus Christ Poems, Work & Career PoemsBased on Keywords: today, hangs, chill, truth, eternity, saint, effect, tomb, unknown, empty, shown