Charles Baudelaire

I Adore You as Much as the Nocturnal Vault...

I adore you as much as the nocturnal vault, O vase of sadness, most taciturn one, I love you all the more because you flee from me, And because you appear, ornament of my nights, More ironically to multiply the leagues That separate my arms from the blue infinite. I advance to attack, and I climb to assault, Like a swarm of maggots after a cadaver, And I cherish, implacable and cruel beast, Even that coldness which makes you more beautiful. Translated by - William Aggeler I Worship You I worship you, O proud and taciturn, As I do night's high vault; O sorrow's urn, I love you all the more because you flee And seem, gem of my nights, ironically To multiply the weary leagues that sunder My arms from all infinity's blue wonder. I skirmish and I climb to the attack, I, a worms' chorus on a corpse's back, O fierce cruel beast, I cherish to the full The very chill that makes you beautiful. Translated by - Jacques LeClercq More Than Night's Vault, It's You That I Adore More than night's vault, it's you that I adore, Vessel of sorrow, silent one, the more Because you flee from me, and seem to place, Ornament of my nights! more leagues of space Ironically between me and you Than part me from these vastitudes of blue. I charge, attack, and mount to the assault As worms attack a corpse within a vault. And cherish even the coldness that you boast, By which, harsh beast, you subjugate me most. Translated by - Roy Campbell

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