Tout cela ne vaut pas le poison qui découle De tes yeux, de tes yeux verts, Lacs où mon âme tremble et se voit à l'envers... Mes songes viennent en foule Pour se désaltérer à ces gouffres amers.
Tout cela ne vaut pas le terrible prodige De ta salive qui mord, Qui plonge dans l'oubli mon âme sans remords, Et charriant le vertige, La roule défaillante aux rives de la mort!
Charles Baudelaire
.. Só às vezes. De dois em dois séculos. Pessoas acontecem.
All that is not equal to the poison which flows From your eyes, from your green eyes, Lakes where my soul trembles and sees its evil side... My dreams come in multitude To slake their thirst in those bitter gulfs.
All that is not equal to the awful wonder Of your biting saliva, Charged with madness, that plunges my remorseless soul Into oblivion And rolls it in a swoon to the shores of death.
All that is not equal to the poison which flows
ResponderEliminarFrom your eyes, from your green eyes,
Lakes where my soul trembles and sees its evil side...
My dreams come in multitude
To slake their thirst in those bitter gulfs.
All that is not equal to the awful wonder
Of your biting saliva,
Charged with madness, that plunges my remorseless soul
Into oblivion
And rolls it in a swoon to the shores of death.
in The Flowers of Evil
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktG52B2-6wo
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