THE EYES OF BEAUTY
YOU are a sky of autumn, pale and rose;
But all the sea of sadness in my blood
Surges, and ebbing, leaves my lips morose,
Salt with the memory of the bitter flood.
It is a ruin where the jackals rest,
And rend and tear and glut themselves and slay
A perfume swims about your naked breast!
Beauty, hard scourge of spirits, have your way!
by Charles Baudelaire
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar