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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354483" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>L'Héautontimorouménos (The Man Who Tortures Himself)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">L'Héautontimorouménos<br>Je te frapperai sans colère<br>Et sans haine, comme un boucher,<br>Comme Moïse le rocher<br>Et je ferai de ta paupière,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pour abreuver mon Saharah<br>Jaillir les eaux de la souffrance.<br>Mon désir gonflé d'espérance<br>Sur tes pleurs salés nagera</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Comme un vaisseau qui prend le large,<br>Et dans mon coeur qu'ils soûleront<br>Tes chers sanglots retentiront<br>Comme un tambour qui bat la charge!<br>Ne suis-je pas un faux accord<br>Dans la divine symphonie,<br>Grâce à la vorace Ironie<br>Qui me secoue et qui me mord<br>Elle est dans ma voix, la criarde!<br>C'est tout mon sang ce poison noir!<br>Je suis le sinistre miroir<br>Où la mégère se regarde.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Je suis la plaie et le couteau!<br>Je suis le soufflet et la joue!<br>Je suis les membres et la roue,<br>Et la victime et le bourreau!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Je suis de mon coeur le vampire,<br>— Un de ces grands abandonnés<br>Au rire éternel condamnés<br>Et qui ne peuvent plus sourire!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Man Who Tortures Himself</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shall strike you without anger<br>And without hate, like a butcher,<br>As Moses struck the rock!<br>And from your eyelids I shall make</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The waters of suffering gush forth<br>To inundate my Sahara.<br>My desire swollen with hope<br>Will float upon your salty tears</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a vessel which puts to sea, <br>And in my heart that they'll make drunk <br>Your beloved sobs will resound <br>Like a drum beating the charge!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Am I not a discord <br>In the heavenly symphony, <br>Thanks to voracious Irony <br>Who shakes me and who bites me?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She's in my voice, the termagant! <br>All my blood is her black poison! <br>I am the sinister mirror <br>In which the vixen looks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the wound and the dagger! <br>I am the blow and the cheek! <br>I am the members and the wheel, <br>Victim and executioner!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm the vampire of my own heart<br>— One of those utter derelicts <br>Condemned to eternal laughter, <br>But who can no longer smile!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by William Aggeler</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heautontimoroumenos </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll strike you, but without the least<br>Anger — as butchers poll an ox,<br>Or Moses, when he struck the rocks — <br>That from your eyelid thus released,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lymph of suffering may brim<br>To slake my desert of its drought.<br>So my desire, by hope made stout,<br>Upon your salty tears may swim,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a proud ship, far out from shore. <br>Within my heart, which they'll confound <br>With drunken joy, your sobs will sound <br>Like drums that beat a charge in war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am I not a faulty chord <br>In all this symphony divine, <br>Thanks to the irony malign <br>That shakes and cuts me like a sword?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's in my voice, the raucous jade! <br>It's in my blood's black venom too! <br>I am the looking-glass, wherethrough <br>Megera sees herself portrayed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the wound, and yet the blade! <br>The smack, and yet the cheek that takes it! <br>The limb, and yet the wheel that breaks it, <br>The torturer, and he who's flayed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One of the sort whom all revile, <br>A Vampire, my own blood I quaff, <br>Condemned to an eternal laugh <br>Because I know not how to smile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Roy Campbell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heauton Timoroumenos</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I mean to strike you without hate,<br>As butchers do; as Moses did<br>The rock. From under either lid<br>Your tears will flow to inundate</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This huge Sahara which is I.<br>My heart, insensible with pain,<br>Caught in that flood will live again:<br>Will care whether it live or die — </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will strive as in the salty sea,<br>Drunken with brine and all but drowned,<br>Yet driven onward by the sound<br>Of your wild sobbing endlessly!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For look — I am at war, my dear, <br>With the whole universe. I know <br>There is no medicine for my woe. <br>Believe me, it is called Despair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It runs in all my veins. I pray: <br>It cries in all my words. I am <br>The very glass where what I damn <br>Leers and admires itself all day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the wound — I am the knife <br>The deep wound scabbards; the outdrawn <br>Rack, and the writhing thereupon; <br>The lifeless, and the taker of life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I murder what I most adore, <br>Laughing: I am indeed of those <br>Condemned for ever without repose <br>To laugh — but who can smile no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by George Dillon</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Heautontimoroumenos<br>The Man Who Tortures Himself</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I shall cleave without scrape or shock, <br>And, like a butcher, without hate, <br>Like Moses, when he struck the rock. <br>From your eyes I shall generate <br>Waters of woe throughout the years <br>To quench my fierce Sahara fires, <br>Swollen with vast hope, my desires <br>Shall float upon your bitter tears <br>Like a proud vessel, sailing large; <br>And in my heart, drunk at the sound, <br>Your cherished sobbing shall resound <br>Like drums beating the long lost charge.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Am I not a discordant note <br>In the celestial symphony, <br>Thanks to voracious Irony <br>Who shakes and bites me at the throat? <br>She's in my voice, the scold; her black <br>Poison is all my blood, alas! <br>I am the direful looking glass <br>Which flashes her reflection back. <br>I am the wound, the knives that strike, <br>The blows that crush, the head that reels, <br>I am wrenched limbs and grinding wheels, <br>Victim and hangman, as you like!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Vampire of my own heart, meanwhile, <br>A derelict, I am of those <br>Doomed to eternal laughter's throes, <br>Yet powerless to frame a smile!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by Jacques LeClercq</div><div style="margin:10px 0">L'Héautontimouroménos</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll strike thee without enmity<br>nor wrath, like butchers at the block,<br>like Moses when he smote the rock!<br>I'll make those eyelids gush for me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">with springs of suffering, whose flow<br>shall slake the desert of my thirst;<br>— a salt flood, where my lust accurst,<br>with Hope to plump her sail, shall go</div><div style="margin:10px 0">as from the port a pitching barge,<br>and in my heart they satiate<br>thy sobs I love shall fulminate<br>loud as a drum that beats a charge!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">for am I not a clashing chord<br>in all Thy heavenly symphony,<br>thanks to this vulture Irony<br>that shakes and bites me always, Lord?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">she's in my voice, the screaming elf!<br>my poisoned blood came all from her!<br>I am the mirror sinister<br>in which the vixen sees herself!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the wound and I the knife!<br>I am the blow I give, and feel!<br>I am the broken limbs, the wheel, <br>the hangman and the strangled life!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am my heart's own vampire, for<br>God has forsaken me, and men,<br>these lips can never smile again,<br>but laugh they must, and evermore!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Lewis Piaget Shanks, Flowers of Evil (New York: Ives Washburn, 1931)</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=354483" data-title="L'Héautontimorouménos (The Man Who Tortures Himself) de Charles Baudelaire" data-description="L'Héautontimorouménos
Je te frapperai sans colère
Et sans haine, comme un boucher,
Comme Moïse le rocher
Et je ferai de ta paupière,

Pour abreuver mon Saharah
Jaillir les eaux de la souffrance.
Mon désir gonflé d'espérance
Sur tes pleurs ..."></div>
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