Search Darkmoon
Recent Comments
- Franklin Ryckaert on 9/11 Widow & Lawyer punished by Corrupt Zionist Judge, by Martin Hill
- Stop Chasing Ghosts on 9/11 Widow & Lawyer punished by Corrupt Zionist Judge, by Martin Hill
- flying cossack on Update: Lori Handrahan Fired by American University
- flying cossack on 9/11 Widow & Lawyer punished by Corrupt Zionist Judge, by Martin Hill
- Carol A. Valentine on 9/11 Widow & Lawyer punished by Corrupt Zionist Judge, by Martin Hill
- Jarrod Deodato on The Vatican and the Jews, by Damian Wolfman
- M on THE JUDEO-RUSSIAN MAFIA AND THE BLOODBATH TO COME, by Dr Lasha Darkmoon
- Brownhawk on THE JUDEO-RUSSIAN MAFIA AND THE BLOODBATH TO COME, by Dr Lasha Darkmoon
- Stop Chasing Ghosts on THE JUDEO-RUSSIAN MAFIA AND THE BLOODBATH TO COME, by Dr Lasha Darkmoon
- Stop Chasing Ghosts on THE JUDEO-RUSSIAN MAFIA AND THE BLOODBATH TO COME, by Dr Lasha Darkmoon
One Night I Lay, by Charles Baudelaire (trans. Darkmoon)
One night I lay next to a hideous whore
I began picturing this lady’s noble air
Lady, I’d like to cover you with kisses!
If only, cruel temptress, you could try
This entry was posted in Translations. Bookmark the permalink.


I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who in a cafe sat
And one was small and fat, and one was large and fat:
And one was eaten up with vice and verminous at that.
The first he spoke of secret sins, and gems and perfumes rare
And velvet cats and courtesans voluptiously fair:
“Who is the sybarite?” I asked. They answered, Beaudelaire.
The second talked in tapestries, by fanatasy beguiled
As frail as bubbles, hard as gems, his pageantries he piled;
“This Lord of Language who is he?” They whispered Oscar Wilde.
The third was staring at his glass from out abysmal pain
With tears his eyes were bitten in beneath his bulbous brain.
“Who is this sodden wretch? ” I asked, they told me Paul Verlaine.
Oh, Wilde, Verlaine and Beauderlaire, their lips were wet with wine
Oh poseur, pimp and libertine! Oh cynic, sot and swine!
Brilliant! Thank you for this priceless gem, Reader. For sheer lushness of language and extravaganza of the “dark” emotions, this parody of the Decadent poets is hard to beat.
It reminds me of Swinburne’s unforgettable couplet:
The lilies and languors of virtue
The roses and raptures of vice.
more demi than gods
Once (or twice) upon a time I did indeed dance like a marvelous dog, for a woman.
Not lately though! (haha)
Do I detect a trace of incipient misogyny here? I hope not!
And the h is for haha
a somewhat deep content, no?
he wants to trade an ugly whore for a better looking whore.
only a poet could set his sights so impossibly high.
Off topic ….Xanadu/Lasha, I believe you are a Catholic. If so, an essay on the enlightening Teilhard de Chardin would be welcome.
Nothing is off topic, dear “Reader”.
As my shrink once said to me when I apologized to him for some irrelevant remark, “Everything is relevant, dear girl, especially the irrelevant.”
I adored that, particularly the emphasis on “especially”.
If you are interested in reading an essay on Teilhard de Chardin — he is a person I know very little about — why don’t you write one yourself and submit it to me for publication? I know who you are and am well-disposed toward you, so I would seriously consider publishing anything you sent me. You have my address.
old whore: wh, congress
new whore: wh, congress
corpse: amurderedkans
+
Weren’t all those poets queer? I know Wilde was.