Charles Baudelaire- "Sed Non Satiata"
We thought you'd enjoy at least one day of la poesie fracophone. Listen in to R's most skillful venery and stay tuned for a compliment to M. Baudelaire tomorrow.
a bien tot, mes petits choux
___
Later:
Thanks to my partner in crime for providing a translation. You're right darling, the words are too delicious not to be appreciated by non Francophones. I am shamed in to doing likewise.
In (mostly acurate) and literal translation
Sed Non Satiata- Never Satisfied- or as one translation has it- Unslakable Lust
Strange deity, brown as the nights,
whose scent is mixed musk and Havana,
work of some obi, Faust of the savanna,
sorceress of ebony thighs, child of black midnights.
I prefer to faithfulness, to opium, to the night
the elixir of your mouth where love pavanes
when my desires, towards you, set out in caravan
your eyes are the cistern where I drink my cares.
By your great large dark eyes, sighing out your soul,
Oh pitiless demon! pour on less flame upon me.
I am not the Styx who can embrace you nine times.
Alas! And I may not, licentious Megera,
in order to break your spirit and put you at bay,
in the hell of your bed become Proserpina.
Please see here for more accomplished versions.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment