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VINTAGE SPLEEN



Spleen (From Charles Baudelaire)

When the low and heavy sky presses like a lid

On the groaning heart a prey to slow cares,

And when from a horizon holding the whole orb

There is cast at us a dark sky more sad than night;

When earth is changed to a damp dungeon,

Where Hope, like a bat,

Flees beating the walls with its timorous wings,

And knocking its head on the rotting ceilings;

When the rain spreads out vast trails

Like the bars of a huge prison,

And when, like sordid spiders, silent people stretch

Threads to the depths of our brains,

Suddenly the bells jump furiously

And hurl to the sky a horrible shriek,

Like some wandering landless spirits

Starting an obstinate complaint.

— And long hearses, with no drums, no music,

File slowly through my soul: Hope,

Conquered, cries, and despotic atrocious Agony

Plants on my bent skull its flag of black.

KIT: “Misletoe Memories” by Lynn Griffin.



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Sacha0606

SAS-y Scrapper
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Registered: May 2009
Location: Belgium (French is my mother language).
Posts: 696
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Date: Mon December 26, 2011
Views: 56
Dimensions: 600 x 600
Keywords: vintage spleen



 
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