Mists and Rains, Poem by Charles Baudelaire

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

O late autumn, winters, springs drenched in mud,
Sleep-inducing seasons! I love you and praise you
For thus wrapping my heart and my brain
In a vaporous shroud and a vague tomb.

In this great plain where the cold autan winds play,
Where through the long nights the weathervane grows hoarse,
My soul, better than in the time of mild renewal,
Will spread wide its raven’s wings.

Nothing is sweeter to a heart full of funereal things,
And upon which the frosts have long been descending,
O pallid seasons, queens of our climes,

Than the permanent sight of your pale darkness,
– Unless it be, on a moonless evening, two by two,
To lull sorrow to sleep on a haphazard bed.

Charles Baudelaire

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