06 July 2018

Translation: Charles Baudelaire's Beauty

Maxfield Parrish, Contentment, 1927

I am fair, oh mortals! like a stoney dream,
And my breast, where each has been bruised shard by shard, 
Is made to inspire a love in the bard
Eternal and mute like matter serene.

I reign in the sky like a quizzical sphinx
Marrying a snow heart with the swan’s white;
I loath movement in the lines however slight,
Never in tears or laughter do I sink.

Poets, in the face of my grandiose airs,
which I seem to borrow from the proudest marvels
Will consume their days in austere study snares;

For I have, to fascinate these sheepish lovers, 
Pure mirrors, which render all more fair and tender:
My eyes, my large eyes of eternal splendor.

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