June 19, 2011

The Jewels

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--Description: 19th C, Baudelaire C., Adoration, Love, Passion


My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,
She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:
And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,
A sultan's favoured slave may show to him.

When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,
This blazing blend of metal crossed with stone,
Gives me an ecstasy I've only known
Where league of sound and luster can be found.

She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,
Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.
My love was deep and gentle as the seas
And rose to her as to a cliff the tide.

My own approval of each dreamy pose,
Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:
And candour, with lubricity united,
Gave piquancy to every one she chose.

Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustres,
Before my eyes clairvoyant and serene,
Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;
Her breasts and belly, of my vine and clusters,

Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,
To kill the peace which over me she'd thrown,
And to disturb her from the crystal throne
Where, calm and solitary, she was sitting.

So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,
Antiope's white rump it seemed to graft
To a boy's torso, merging fore and aft.
The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine.

The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,
The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,
And every time it sighed a crimson flare
It drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin.

Charles Baudelaire

--Did You Know: (9 April 1821 - 31 August 1867) Baudelaire was a nineteenth century French poet, critic, and translator. A controversial figure in his lifetime, Baudelaire's name has become a byword for literary and artistic decadence. Baudelaire was a slow and fastidious worker, often sidetracked by indolence, emotional distress and illness, and it was not until 1857 that he published his first and most famous volume of poems, Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil). Read more at: Charles Baudelaire

--Word of the Day: fervid\FUR-vid\, adjective:
1. Heated or vehement in spirit, enthusiasm, etc.
2. Burning; glowing; intensely hot.
Over the last week, the Cubs opened their home season at Wrigley Field, and the city's Lyric Opera was presenting Richard Wagner's four-opera "Ring des Nibelungen," which meant that two of the world's most fervid fan bases were simultaneously encamped on opposite sides of the Chicago River.
-Bruce Weber, "Take Me Out to the Opera: In Chicago, a Fan Is a Fan"

--Quote of the Day:
The white light streams down to be broken up by those human prisms into all the colors of the rainbow. Take your own color in the pattern and be just that.
- Charles R. Brown

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Posted by V. Mahfood
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4 comments:

Sympathy on June 22, 2011 at 5:01 PM said...

Enjoyed reading the poem with a cup of coffee :)

V. Mahfood on June 23, 2011 at 9:30 AM said...

Love the seduction of this poem that is timeless through the ages. Baudelaire uses amazing imagery :-) Thanks.

Cathy on January 15, 2012 at 10:40 PM said...

Another great poem for my collection. Thanks for the post.

V. Mahfood on January 15, 2012 at 11:04 PM said...

Glad you liked. Passion at its finest :-)

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