Afternoon Song

Poem by Charles Baudelaire Collection The Flowers of EvilThemes LovePeriod 19th century

Though your wicked eyebrows give you
A strange look that is not that
Of an angel, sorceress with alluring eyes,

I adore you, O my frivolous one,
My terrible passion!
With the devotion
Of a priest for his idol.

The desert and the forest
Perfume your rough tresses,
Your head has the attitudes
Of enigma and secret.

Over your flesh the scent prowls
As around a censer;
You charm like the evening,
Dark and warm nymph.

Ah! the strongest philtres
Are not worth your laziness,
And you know the caress
That brings the dead back to life!
Your hips are in love
With your back and your breasts,
And you ravish the cushions
With your languorous poses.

Sometimes, to appease
Your mysterious rage,
You lavish, serious,
The bite and the kiss;

You tear me apart, my brunette,
With a mocking laugh,
And then you place on my heart
Your eye soft as the moon.

Under your satin shoes,
Under your charming silken feet,
I place my great joy,
My genius and my destiny,

My soul healed by you,
By you, light and color!
Explosion of heat
In my black Siberia!

Charles Baudelaire

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