I expose here a poem by Charles Baudelaire French, known as the "Cursed Poet." His nickname is because his writings always haunted by issues like the devil, evil and death. But mainly because it was rejected by the upper class and other poets of that time.
had a life of turmoil, but the explosion came in 1857 when he published the book "The Flowers of Evil" , justice sentenced him referring to the contents of same attack against morals and constumbres . Obscene writings were for the times we ran.
The poem that I leave is not so hard, nor dark, but I really like this in the book "The Flowers of Evil."
the sky or are the daughter of abysses,
oh, Beauty? Your eyes, infernal, celestial
grants and crime
and so I can compare you to wine.
Your eyes contain the twilight and dawn,
and pour perfumes and rainy afternoon,
filter your kisses and your mouth is an amphora
to cringe and cheer the hero child.
"Sales of black chasm or descended from a star?
Destiny as a dog is stuck to your skirts;
you scatter randomly disaster and joy,
and rule the world and no answer.
On dead walk, O Beauty, mockingly;
the Horror of your jewelry is no less shining,
and among your most cherished ornaments Crime
dance with pleasure on her belly proudly.
Dazzled, the ephemeral comes to you, fire,
and crackles, burns, said: "Let us praise the flame!"
panting lover with his love
is like a dying man caressing his tomb.
What do I care to come out of Hell or Heaven,
oh, Beauty, monstrous, all terror and candor,
if your eyes, smiling, will open the door of
an infinite longed ever met?
Of Satan or God, who cares? Angel, Siren,
what does it matter if the end tables, night-eyed fairy,
rhythm, light and perfume, oh my queen and lady-
less vile this world and this time lighter?
Charles Baudelaire, "The Flowers of Evil."
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