Landscape, Poem by Charles Baudelaire

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

I want, to compose my eclogues chastely,
To lie near the sky, like the astrologers,
And, neighbor to the steeples, to listen while dreaming
To their solemn hymns carried off by the wind.
Both hands to my chin, from the height of my garret,
I shall see the workshop that sings and chatters;
The pipes, the steeples, those masts of the city,
And the great skies that make one dream of eternity.

It is sweet, through the mists, to see born
The star in the azure, the lamp at the window,
The rivers of coal rising to the firmament
And the moon pouring out its pale enchantment.
I shall see the springs, the summers, the autumns;
And when winter comes with its monotonous snows,
I shall close everywhere doors and shutters
To build in the night my fairy palaces.
Then I shall dream of bluish horizons,
Of gardens, of fountains weeping in the alabasters,
Of kisses, of birds singing evening and morning,
And all that the Idyll has of the most childlike.
The Riot, storming in vain at my window,
Will not make me lift my forehead from my desk;
For I shall be plunged in that voluptuousness
Of evoking Spring with my will,
Of drawing a sun from my heart, and of making
From my burning thoughts a tepid atmosphere.

Charles Baudelaire

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