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Hymn to Beauty
Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)
translated by Cyril Scott (1879-1970)

The Rhyme Maker
Charles Baudelaire
Charles Baudelaire
1821-1867


Themes:  Love and Romance (the dark side)
                       Wine Musings


Special Rhyme List:  Audios/Videos


Hymne ŕ la Beauté  (original French) audio


Other English translations:
Hymn To Beauty (1919 Robertson)
Hymn To Beauty (1928 Martin)

Hymn To Beauty (2013 Bass)
  ©


more Charles Baudelaire at
vintagewinepoems.com
from Les fluers du mal (The Flowers of Evil):
The Soul Of Wine  
The Wine Of Lovers * A/V
The Wine Of The Murderer*
The Wine Of The Rag-Pickers 
The Wine Of The Solitary*

Prose poems:
Be Drunk* A/V
The Thyrsus:  To Franz Liszt


* multiple Englsh translations



"Malice"
William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905)

The VWP Art Gallery

Hymn to Beauty
Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867), French poet
translated by Cyril Scott (1879-1970)

O Beauty! dost thou generate from Heaven or from Hell?
Within thy glance, so diabolic and divine,
Confusedly both wickedness and goodness
dwell,
And hence one might compare thee unto sparkling wine.

Thy look containeth both the dawn and sunset
stars,
Thy perfumes, as upon a sultry night exhale,
Thy kiss a philter, and thy mouth a Grecian
vase,
That renders heroes cowardly and infants hale.

Yea, art thou from the planets, or the fiery
womb?
The demon follows in thy train, with magic fraught,
Thou scatter'st seeds haphazardly of joy and doom,
Thou govern'st everything, but answer'st unto nought.

O Loveliness ! thou spurnest corpses with
delight,
Among thy jewels, Horror hath such charms for thee,
And Murder 'mid thy mostly cherished trinklets bright,
Upon thy massive bosom dances amorously.

The blinded, fluttering moth towards the candle
flies,
Then frizzles, falls, and falters" Blessings unto thee "
The panting swain that o'er his beauteous mistress sighs,
Seems like the Sick, that stroke their gravestones lovingly.

What matter, if thou comest from the Heavens or
Hell,
O Beauty, frightful ghoul, ingenuous and obscure!
So long thine eyes, thy smile, to me the way can tell
Towards that Infinite I love, but never saw.

From God or Satan ? Angel, Mermaid,
Proserpine?
What matter if thou makest blithe, voluptuous sprite
With rhythms, perfumes, visions O mine only queen!
The universe less hideous and the hours less trite.


from The Flowers of Evil (1909)


CHARLES BAUDELAIRE at AMAZON

Les Fluers du Mal (The Flowers of Evil)
 by Charles Baudelaire / Richard Howard (trans.)

  French and English.  
  Award-winning translation









       



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