Far from Here, Poem by Charles Baudelaire

This is the sacred hut
Where this girl so adorned,
Tranquil and always ready,

With one hand fanning her breasts,
And her elbow in the cushions,
Listens to the basins weep;

It is Dorothea’s room.
– The breeze and the water sing far off
Their song of broken sobs
To lull this spoiled child.

From head to toe, with great care,
Her delicate skin is rubbed
With fragrant oil and benzoin.
– Flowers swoon in a corner.

Charles Baudelaire

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