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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Spleen (I)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pluviôse, irrité contre la ville entière,<br>De son urne à grands flots verse un froid ténébreux<br>Aux pâles habitants du voisin cimetière<br>Et la mortalité sur les faubourgs brumeux.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mon chat sur le carreau cherchant une litière<br>Agite sans repos son corps maigre et galeux;<br>L'âme d'un vieux poète erre dans la gouttière<br>Avec la triste voix d'un fantôme frileux.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Le bourdon se lamente, et la bûche enfumée<br>Accompagne en fausset la pendule enrhumée<br>Cependant qu'en un jeu plein de sales parfums,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Héritage fatal d'une vieille hydropique,<br>Le beau valet de coeur et la dame de pique<br>Causent sinistrement de leurs amours défunts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">--------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------<br>Spleen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">January, irritated with the whole city, <br>Pours from his urn great waves of gloomy cold <br>On the pale occupants of the nearby graveyard <br>And death upon the foggy slums.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My cat seeking a bed on the tiled floor <br>Shakes his thin, mangy body ceaselessly; <br>The soul of an old poet wanders in the rain-pipe <br>With the sad voice of a shivering ghost.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The great bell whines, the smoking log<br>Accompanies in falsetto the snuffling clock,<br>While in a deck of cards reeking of filthy scents,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mortal heritage from some dropsical old woman, <br>The handsome knave of hearts and the queen of spades <br>Converse sinisterly of their dead love affair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>— Translated by William Aggeler</div><div style="margin:10px 0">---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------<br>Spleen </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Month of Rains, incensed at life, outpours <br>Out of her urn, a dark chill, like a penance, <br>Over the graveyards and their wan, grey tenants <br>And folk in foggy suburbs out of doors.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My cat seeks out a litter on the ground <br>Twitching her scrawny body flecked with mange. <br>The soul of some old poet seems to range <br>The gutter, with a chill phantasmal sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The big bell tolls: damp hearth-logs seem to mock,<br>Whistling, the sniffle-snuffle of the clock,<br>While in the play of odours stale with must,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Reminders of a dropsical old crone, <br>The knave of hearts and queen of spades alone <br>Darkly discuss a passion turned to dust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">— Translated by Roy Campbell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">--------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Late January</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pluviose, hating all that lives, and loathing me, <br>Distills his cold and gloomy rain and slops it down <br>Upon the pallid lodgers in the cemetery <br>Next door, and on the people shopping in the town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My cat, for sheer discomfort, waves a sparsely-furred <br>And shabby tail incessantly on the tiled floor; <br>And, wandering sadly in the rain-spout, can be heard <br>The voice of some dead poet who had these rooms before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The log is wet, and smokes; its hissing high lament<br>Mounts to the bronchial clock on the cracked mantel there;<br>While (heaven knows whose they were — some dropsical old maid's)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a soiled pack of cards that reeks of dirty scent, <br>The handsome jack of hearts and the worn queen of spades <br>Talk in suggestive tones of their old love-affair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">— Translated by Edna St. Vincent Millay</div><div style="margin:10px 0">----------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spleen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">November, vexed with all the capital,<br>whelms in a death-chill from her gloomy urn<br>the cold pale dead beneath the graveyard wall,<br>the death-doomed who in dripping houses yearn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grimalkin prowls, a gaunt and scurvy ghoul,<br>seeking a softer lair for her sojourn;<br>along the eaves an ancient poet's soul<br>shivers and wails, a ghost no eyes discern.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the whining church-bell and the log a-sputter<br>repeat the rheumy clock's falsetto mutter;<br>while in a pack of cards, scent-filled and vile,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">grim relic of a dropsical old maid,<br>the queen of spades and knave of hearts parade<br>their dead amours, with many an evil smile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">— Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks</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=354510" data-title="Spleen (I) de Charles Baudelaire" data-description="Pluviôse, irrité contre la ville entière,
De son urne à grands flots verse un froid ténébreux
Aux pâles habitants du voisin cimetière
Et la mortalité sur les faubourgs brumeux.

Mon chat sur le carreau cherchant une litière
Agite sans re..."></div>
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