Author of quotes: Charles Baudelaire. Page 2

Are you God or Satan? Are you angel or Siren?
Not all the same: only you, Queen Beauty,
You free the world from painful captivity,
Send incense and sounds and colors!

Yes, my cradle was in the library;
Dust, Babylon volumes, parchment, silence,
Novels, dictionaries, Latins and Greeks...
I, as in folio, was exalted then.
Two voices talked to me about life.
One, insidious, firm, said to me, "The world is a pie.
Dispel your appetite. At the cost of their efforts
You will know the sweetness of all that God has created."
Another shouted: "Swim in bottomless fairy tales
Over what is conceivable, over what measures the meter."
Ah, that voice sang, bayukal in strange caresses,
Scary and exciting, like winds from the embankment,
Like a phantom who came out of nowhere.
I said, "I'm going!" and that's me then.
Suddenly I felt the pain and the fate that is everywhere
I carry now with me, I carry always, always...
I see new constellations of diamonds
In the blackest abyss of dreams, behind the appearance of things;
Slave of clairvoyance and martyr of ecstasies,
I drag with me indestructible snakes.
And it has been since, as a prophet, wandering;
In the deserts and seas, I, as a prophet, am alone.
I laugh in mourning, I cry on holidays
And I find the beauty in the taste of bitter wines.
To me, the facts seem like some kind of noisy lie,
Counting the stars in the darkness, I get into the moat...
But the Voice whispers to me, "Keep your dreams, crazy!
Clever people do not know such beautiful dreams..."

To pay tribute, to you by fate
Two fields are given, man;
You've been the steel of reason all ages.
They should be cut like a ploy.
To ear rye or rose bush
Grow up in this meager field,
You have to pour as much as you can.
To the ground of bitter, dirty tears.
Art and Love - those nivas! -
A terrible hour will strike, and here it is.
Fate to you, O lazy slave,
He will pronounce his sentence.
At that hour prepare barns of bread,
Cats are lush flowers,
That the fruits of your labors
The choir of Angels glorified from heaven!

Happy child! Why do you burn with desire?
To see France pierced by suffering,
Where people live closely; why your fate
Hurry to hand over to the hands of the rowers and the ship,
Say goodbye forever to your favorite tamarin?
Half-dressed, under a ghostly muslin,
Trembling from the cold and blizzard of snow,
You will remember the past and the free land of the native;
And your free torso will be squeezed by the vise of the corset,
You will trade yourself - and for it
In the dens of the city shelter you will found your own,
Coconut trees are looking for in the mist of raw!

You're a bitter drunk under the roof of a tavern,
Whose thirst only grows from every sip
And multiplies his heads, like the hydra of Lerna.
- But happy drunkard, he will be struck by wine.
To thee, Hatred, O sorrow, is not given
Forget under the table in the corner of a remote tavern.

Quote in English

Quote in English

Sparkle of rare stones in the context of these eyes.
And in a strange, lifeless and fabulous world
A Sphinx and the Seraphim merge into the air.

Who carved you out of the dark night,
What native Faust, the devil savanna?
You smell like musk and tobacco Havanna,
Midnight child, my idol fatal.
Neither the opium nor the hops to compete with you
I dare not, my demon; you're the land of promise,
Where sad my desires caravans
To the wells of your eyes are going to drink.

The spirit of justice and mercy flows from the force, what gives it its owner.

There are scents whose power over us is endless:
In any substance eats forever.
Sometimes, the casket outlandish opening
(Zajavlenie lock resistant and shrill),
Il somewhere in a corner of junk in the attic
Caked in dust that we find unattractive
A bottle from-under spirits: he's dull, and empty and dry,
But the memory in it alive, alive without a spirit.
Past dreams, enthusiasm and resentment,
Dreams faded - blind chrysalide,
From the musty darkness, as if to gain strength,
Vypustyat suddenly the magnificence of the wings.

I'm breaking up with my sadness
The strange yearning,
And, like a sailboat, sail
To distant countries.
In your eyes a shadow of feelings,
Neither darkness nor light
Only jewelry,
The brilliance of the gem.
You're like a snake, shook mill,
Evil and soulless.
And hovering in the tireless dance,
The wand obedient.
And this kids head
In curls bowed
Only balances awkward
Like a baby elephant.
And the body stretches like a
In the mist ray
Shalanda motionless in the swell of the Bay
Rei drops.
Not the flood increases
And the ice shifts, -
The teeth a white Shine,
Saliva escapes.
A drink in the tart pins
I gulp drink
Which stars ecstasy
In the mist of sleep!

Men have only two ways - either he becomes a slave of women or turns into the executioner, the murderer, battering her body and soul.

Owns a Music like the sea, often me!
To you, my star, I
Under the arch of the cloudy Il through the ether of empty
The sail is raised.

You humble my soul,
You, my color, my candle.
You flash hot fire
In the darkness of my black Siberia.