More beautiful than Venus
“More beautiful than Venus arising to the world
And scattering all round her the iridescent fire
Of her blond loveliness with rainbow hues impearled
Upon the old green ocean, her bedazzled sire;
More beautiful than Venus arising to the world!”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from Lesbos, translated by George Dillon, 1936.
crystal petals
“The fountain leaps and flowers
In many roses,
On which the moonlight flares.
Their crystal petals, breaking,
Breaking forever,
Are changed to falling tears.”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from The Fountain, as translated by George Dillon, 1936.
Enchanted rivers
“That marvellous landscape of my dream—
Which no eye knows, nor ever will—
At moments, wide awake, I seem
To grasp, and it excites me still. . . .
Blue sheets of water, left and right,
Spread between quays of rose and green,
To the world’s end and out of sight,
And still expanded, though unseen.
Enchanted rivers, those—with jade
And jasper were their banks bedecked;
Enormous mirrors, dazzled, made
Dizzy by all they did reflect.
And many a Ganges, taciturn
And heedless, in the vaulted air,
Poured out of the treasure of its urn
Into a gulf of diamond there.
As architect, it tempted me
To tame the ocean at its source;
And this I did,—I made the sea
Under a jewelled culvert course.
And every colour, even black,
Became prismatic, polished, bright;
The liquid gave its glory back
Mounted in iridescent light.”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from his Parisian Dream, as translated by Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1936.
the green tables
“Round the green tables, faces without lips, the lips
Drained of all colour; clench of toothless jaws, unrest
Of hundreds of demonic fingers clutching the chips,
Searching the empty pocket or the pounding breast;”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from The Gaming Room, as translated by George Dillon, 1936.
the Sea of Shadows
“We shall embark upon the Sea of Shadows, gay
As a young passenger on his first voyage out. . . .
What are those sweet, funereal voices? ‘Come this way,
All ye that are in trouble!—all ye that are in doubt!’ . . .
Pour us your poison wine that makes us feel like gods!
Our brains are burning up!—there’s nothing left to do
But plunge into the void!—hell? heaven? what’s the odds?
We’re bound for the Unknown, in search of something new!”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from Travel, translated by Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1936.
a jealous God
“Thou that hast seen in darkness and canst bring to light
The gems a jealous God has hidden from our sight,
Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress!
Thou to whom all the secret arsenals are known
Where iron, where gold and silver, slumber, locked in stone,
Satan have pity upon me in my deep distress!”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867), from The Litanies of Satan, translated by Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1936.
starbright, starbright
“Up there’s a heaven
Down there’s a town
Blackness everywhere and little lights shine
Oh, blackness, blackness dragging me down
Come on light the candle in this poor heart of mine
Oh starbright, starbright
You’ve got the lovin’ that I like, all right
Turn this crazy bird around
I shouldn’t have got on this flight tonight”
—Joni Mitchell, from This Flight Tonight, on the album Blue, 1971. Later covered in a rock ’n’ roll style by Nazareth.
a Chelsea morning
“Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I saw
Was the sun through yellow curtains, and a rainbow on the wall
Blue, red, green and gold to welcome you, crimson crystal beads to beckon
Oh, won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
There’s a sun show every second”
—Joni Mitchell, from Chelsea Morning, 1969. A big hit for Judy Collins!
bad luck
“‘Bad luck,’ said I, ‘or what goes by that name, may now and then
tangle the affairs of any man. But if it persists beyond the estimate
of what we may call the “averages” there must be a cause for it.’
‘‘There is,’ said Kearny emphatically, ‘and when we walk another
square I will show it to you.’
Surprised, I kept by his side until we came to Canal Street and out
into the middle of its great width.
Kearny seized me by an arm and pointed a tragic forefinger at a
rather brilliant star that shone steadily about thirty degrees above
the horizon.
‘‘That’s Saturn,’ said he, ‘the star that presides over bad luck and
evil and disappointment and nothing doing and trouble. I was born
under that star. Every move I make, up bobs Saturn and blocks it. He’s
the hoodoo planet of the heavens. They say he’s 73,000 miles in
diameter and no solider of body than split-pea soup, and he’s got as
many disreputable and malignant rings as Chicago. Now, what kind of a
star is that to be born under’’. . .
‘’You see that ugly little red star about eight inches above and to
the right of Saturn’’ Kearny asked me. ‘Well, that’s her. That’s
Phoebe. She’s got me in charge. . . . Kearny shook his fist violently skyward. ‘Curse her, she’s done her work well,’ said he. ‘Ever since I was astrologized, bad luck has followed me like my shadow.’. . .”
—O. Henry (1862–1910), from Phoebe.
the house of dust
“Listen, my friend, this is the dream I dreamed last night. The heavens roared, and earth rumbled back an answer; between them stood I before an awful being, the sombre-faced man-bird; he had directed on me his purpose. His was a vampire face, his foot was a lion’s foot, his hand was an eagle’s talon. He fell on me and his claws were in my hair, he held me fast and I smothered; then he led me away to the palace of Irkalla, the Queen of Darkness, to the house from which none who enters ever returns, down the road from which there is no coming back.
There is the house whose people sit in darkness; dust is their food and clay their meat. They are clothed like birds with wings for covering, they see no light, they sit in darkness. I entered the house of dust and I saw the kings of the earth, their crowns put away for ever; rulers and princes, all those who once wore kingly crowns and ruled the world in the days of old.”
—Gilgamesh’s friend Enkidu, from The Epic of Gilgamesh, circa. 3000 BC, translated by N.K. Sandars, 1960.