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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354407" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bohémiens En Voyage (Gypsies On The Road)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">La tribu prophétique aux prunelles ardentes<br>Hier s'est mise en route, emportant ses petits<br>Sur son dos, ou livrant à leurs fiers appétits<br>Le trésor toujours prêt des mamelles pendantes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Les hommes vont à pied sous leurs armes luisantes<br>Le long des chariots où les leurs sont blottis,<br>Promenant sur le ciel des yeux appesantis<br>Par le morne regret des chimères absentes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Du fond de son réduit sablonneux, le grillon,<br>Les regardant passer, redouble sa chanson;<br>Cybèle, qui les aime, augmente ses verdures,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fait couler le rocher et fleurir le désert<br>Devant ces voyageurs, pour lesquels est ouvert<br>L'empire familier des ténèbres futures.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gypsies Traveling</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The prophetical tribe, that ardent eyed people, <br>Set out last night, carrying their children <br>On their backs, or yielding to those fierce appetites <br>The ever ready treasure of pendulous breasts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The men travel on foot with their gleaming weapons <br>Alongside the wagons where their kin are huddled, <br>Surveying the heavens with eyes rendered heavy <br>By a mournful regret for vanished illusions.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cricket from the depths of his sandy retreat <br>Watches them as they pass, and louder grows his song; <br>Cybele, who loves them, increases her verdure,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Makes the desert blossom, water spurt from the rock <br>Before these travelers for whom is opened wide <br>The familiar domain of the future's darkness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by William Aggeler</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gipsies on the Road </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tribe of seers, last night, began its match <br>With burning eyes, and shouldering its young <br>To whose ferocious appetites it swung <br>The wealth of hanging breasts that nought can parch.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The men, their weapons glinting in the rays, <br>Walk by the convoy where their folks are carted, <br>Sweeping the far-off skylines with a gaze <br>Regretful of Chimeras long-departed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out of his hole the cricket sees them pass<br>And sings the louder. Greener grows the grass<br>Because Cybele loves them, and has made</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The barren rock to gush, the sands to flower, <br>To greet these travellers, before whose power <br>Familiar futures open realms of shade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Roy Campbell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Gypsies</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They set out yesterday, the tribe of ragged seers <br>With burning eyes — bearing their little ones in nests <br>Upon their backs, or giving them, to stop their tears, <br>The teats of inexhaustible and swarthy breasts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The men walk shouldering their rifles silently <br>Beside the hooded wagons with bright tatters hung, <br>And peer into the sky, as if they hoped to see <br>Some old mirage that beckoned them when they were young.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No matter where they journey through the meager land, <br>The cricket will sing louder from his lair of sand, <br>And Cybele, who loves them, will smile where they advance:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The desert will be fruitful, the arid rock will flow <br>Before the footsteps of these wayfarers, who go <br>Eternally into the lightless realm of chance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by George Dillon</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Travelling Bohemians</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The prophetic tribe of the ardent eyes<br>Yesterday they took the road, holding their babies<br>On their backs, delivering to fierce appetites<br>The always ready treasure of pendulous breasts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The men stick their feet out, waving their guns<br>Alongside the caravan where they tremble together,<br>Scanning the sky their eyes are weighted down<br>In mourning for absent chimeras.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the bottom of his sandy retreat, a cricket<br>Watched passing, redoubles his song,<br>Cybele, who loves, adds more flower,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Makes fountains out of rock and blossoms from desert<br>Opening up before these travelers in a yawn—<br>A familiar empire, the inscrutable future.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Translated by William A. Sigler</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Baudelaire">Charles Baudelaire</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354407" data-title="Bohémiens En Voyage (Gypsies On The Road) de Charles Baudelaire" data-description="La tribu prophétique aux prunelles ardentes
Hier s'est mise en route, emportant ses petits
Sur son dos, ou livrant à leurs fiers appétits
Le trésor toujours prêt des mamelles pendantes.

Les hommes vont à pied sous leurs armes luisantes
Le l..."></div>
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