The Soul of Wine

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

One evening, the soul of wine was singing in the bottles:
“Man, toward you I send, O dear disinherited one,
Under my glass prison and my vermilion seals,
A song full of light and brotherhood!

I know how much is needed, on the flaming hill,
Of toil, of sweat and of burning sun
To engender my life and to give me a soul;
But I shall not be ungrateful or malicious,

For I feel an immense joy when I fall
Into the throat of a man worn out by his labors,
And his warm breast is a gentle tomb
Where I take far more pleasure than in my cold cellars.
Do you hear the refrains of Sundays resounding
And the hope that chirps in my palpitating breast?
With your elbows on the table and your sleeves rolled up,
You will glorify me and you will be content;

I shall light up the eyes of your delighted wife;
To your son I shall restore his strength and his colors
And shall be for this frail athlete of life
The oil that strengthens the muscles of wrestlers.

Into you I shall fall, vegetable ambrosia,
Precious grain cast by the eternal Sower,
So that from our love may be born the poetry
That will spring toward God like a rare flower!”

Charles Baudelaire

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