Cage

CAGE

Free was that bird to fly
away at length at large;
so tell me, tell me why
she flies back to her cage?

You too, my love, set free
long cruel from your chains—
why, tell me why you creep
back to your ancient sins?

The fight, I let you win it
and doused your deadly fires.
For what? Dog to its vomit
back, swine back to its mire?

No, no, let it not be—
Not for this I set you free!

The Vampire (Baudelaire translation)

Masked

The Vampire

You, deadlier than a dagger thrust,
Who into my sick heart have come!
You, sleek and lethal in your lust,
Who like a thousand demons swarm

Into my mind, where you have found
Your bed of sin and your domain—
Bitch!
vile bitch! to you I’m bound
As is the convict to his chain!

As is the gambler to his dice,
As is the drunkard to his bowl,
As is the carcase to its lice—
Incarnate bitch
! bitch without soul!

I begged the knife to put an end
To all my pain…poison to pour
Its giddy death into my veins,
Yielding the peace I so longed for!

Alas! these two, they sneered at me,
Both poison and the knife so rude:
You have no right to be set free
From your accursèd servitude!

Fool! if somehow we could contrive
To free you from your wretched pain,
Your kisses would restore to life
Your Vampire’s rotting corpse again!”

— Translated by Lasha Darkmoon

The Giantess (Baudelaire translation)

“I might have loved a girl of giant size…”

The Giantess

When Nature long ago in lusty guise
Produced all kinds of forms—monstrous, obscene—
I might have loved a girl of giant size.
I could have been her kitten, she my queen!

Oh, to have seen her shoot up tall and turn
Mature and muscular with exercise!—
The soupy mists that in such monsters churn,
Would that I’d seen them swirling in her eyes!

To roam her craggy contours and to climb
Her legs titanic to her knees sublime!—
And then, when summer’s swoon-inducing heats
Have made her sprawl across the countryside,
To crouch within the shadow of her teats,
Like a small village on a mountainside!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baudelaire: Le Géante
http://fleursdumal.org/poem/118

Rosa Mystica

Long to sail
sea of dreams all day,
summer the winds sighing;
honey sun in heaven
larks on fire flying.

Long to find
green the fields of longing;
time where everlasting
rivers flow and flowers
live on without dying.

Long to rest
eyes of her in pools,
moon their darkness dazzling;
forgiveness in her smile
and an end to crying.