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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354448" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>La Beauté (Beauty)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Je suis belle, ô mortels! comme un rêve de pierre,<br>Et mon sein, où chacun s'est meurtri tour à tour,<br>Est fait pour inspirer au poète un amour<br>Eternel et muet ainsi que la matière.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Je trône dans l'azur comme un sphinx incompris; <br>J'unis un coeur de neige à la blancheur des cygnes; <br>Je hais le mouvement qui déplace les lignes,<br>Et jamais je ne pleure et jamais je ne ris.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Les poètes, devant mes grandes attitudes,<br>Que j'ai l'air d'emprunter aux plus fiers monuments,<br>Consumeront leurs jours en d'austères études; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Car j'ai, pour fasciner ces dociles amants,<br>De purs miroirs qui font toutes choses plus belles:<br>Mes yeux, mes larges yeux aux clartés éternelles! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Beauty</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am fair, O mortals! like a dream carved in stone, <br>And my breast where each one in turn has bruised himself <br>Is made to inspire in the poet a love <br>As eternal and silent as matter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On a throne in the sky, a mysterious sphinx, <br>I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans; <br>I hate movement for it displaces lines, <br>And never do I weep and never do I laugh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poets, before my grandiose poses, <br>Which I seem to assume from the proudest statues, <br>Will consume their lives in austere study; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For I have, to enchant those submissive lovers,<br>Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:<br>My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal brightness! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by William Aggeler</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beauty </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm fair, O mortals, as a dream of stone; <br>My breasts whereon, in turn, your wrecks you shatter,<br>Were made to wake in poets' hearts alone <br>A love as indestructible as matter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sky-throned sphinx, unknown yet, I combine <br>The cygnet's whiteness with a heart of snow. <br>I loathe all movement that displaces line, <br>And neither tears nor laughter do I know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poets before my postures, which I seem <br>To learn from masterpieces, love to dream <br>And there in austere thought consume their days.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have, these docile lovers to subject, <br>Mirrors that glorify all they reflect — <br>These eyes, great eyes, eternal in their blaze! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Roy Campbell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">La Beauté</div><div style="margin:10px 0">fair as a dream in stone I loom afar<br>— mortals! — with dazzling breast where, bruised in turn<br>all poets fall in silence, doomed to burn<br>with love eternal as the atoms are.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">white as a swan I throne with heart of snow<br>in azure space, a sphynx that none divine,<br>no hateful motion mars my lovely line,<br>nor tears nor laughter shall I ever know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and poets, lured by this magnificence<br>— this grandeur proud as Parian monuments —<br>toil all their days like martyrs in a spell; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">lovers bewitched are they, for I possess<br>pure mirrors harbouring worlds of loveliness:<br>my wide, wide eyes where fires eternal dwell! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beauty</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Conceive me as a dream of stone: <br>my breast, where mortals come to grief, <br>is made to prompt all poets' love, <br>mute and noble as matter itself. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">With snow for flesh, with ice for heart, <br>I sit on high, an unguessed sphinx <br>begrudging acts that alter forms; <br>I never laugh, I never weep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In studious awe the poets brood <br>before my monumental pose <br>aped from the proudest pedestal, <br>and to bind these docile lovers fast <br>I freeze the world in a perfect mirror: <br>The timeless light of my wide eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">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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Et mon sein, où chacun s'est meurtri tour à tour,
Est fait pour inspirer au poète un amour
Eternel et muet ainsi que la matière.

Je trône dans l'azur comme un sphinx incompris; 
J'unis un ..."></div>
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