Charles Baudelaire

The Beautiful Ship

I want to name for you, indolent sorceress! The divers marks of beauty which adorn your youth; I want to describe your beauty, In which are blended childhood and maturity. When you go sweeping by in your full, flowing skirts, You resemble a trim ship as it puts to sea Under full sail and goes rolling Lazily, to a slow and easy rhythm. On your large, round neck, on your plump shoulders, Your head moves proudly and with a strange grace; With a placid, triumphant air You go your way, majestic child. I want to name for you, indolent sorceress! The divers marks of beauty which adorn your youth; I want to describe your beauty, In which are blended childhood and maturity. Your exuberant breast which swells your silken gown, Your triumphant breast is a lovely cabinet Whose panels, round and bright, Catch each flash of light like bucklers, Exciting bucklers, armed with rosy points! Cabinet of sweet secrets, crowded with good things, With wines, with perfumes, with liqueurs That would make delirious the minds and hearts of men! When you go sweeping by in your full, flowing skirts, You resemble a trim ship as it puts to sea Under full sail and goes rolling Lazily, to a slow and easy rhythm. Your shapely legs beneath the flounces they pursue Arouse and torment obscure desires Like two sorceresses who stir A black philtre in a deep vessel. Your arms which would scorn precocious Hercules Are the worthy rivals of glistening boas, Made to clasp stubbornly Y our lover, as if to imprint him on your heart. On your large, round neck, on your plump shoulders, Your head moves proudly and with a strange grace; With a placid, triumphant air You go your way, majestic child. Translated by - William Aggeler The Beautiful Ship I Want to tell you, indolent enchantress, Of the various beauties that adorn your youth; I want to paint for you your beauty Of childish maturity. When you go sweeping the air with your flaring skirts, You look like a lovely slip taking to flight Heavy with canvas, pitching, Rolling in a soft rhythm, both lazy and slow. On your wide, round neck, on your plump shoulders, Your head parades its strange graces; Placidly, triumphantly, O child of majesty, you go your way. I want to tell you, indolent enchantress, Of the various beauties that adorn your youth; I want to paint for you your beauty Where childhood touches maturity. Your breasts thrust forward, heaving their silk, Your triumphing breasts are charming cases Whose outlined, rounded panels Hold flashes of light like twin shields; Provocative shields, armed with pink tips, Cases of sweet secrets, full of sweet things, Of wines and perfumes and liqueurs Making the brain, the heart delirious! When you go sweeping the air with your flaring skirts, You look like a lovely ship taking to flight, Heavy with canvas, you go pitching, Rolling in a soft rhythm, both lazy and slow. Your full legs, under flounces they chase forward, Torture and excite dark desires, Like two witches who Twist some black potion in a deep bowl. Your arms, which would make light of precocious Hercules, Rival well two glistening snakes, Made to bind hopelessly As if to imprison your lover in your heart. On your wide, round neck, on your plump shoulders, Your head parades its strange graces Placid, triumphantly, O child of majesty, you go your way. Translated by - Geoffrey Wagner The Splendid Ship Oh soft enchantress, I'll record with truth The diverse beauties that adorn your youth. Yes, I will paint your charm Of womanhood with childhood arm in arm. When you go sweeping your wide skirts, to me You seem a splendid ship that out to sea Spreads its full sails, and with them Goes rolling in a soft, slow, lazy rhythm. Over your tall, round neck and those plump shoulders, Your head swans forth its pride to all beholders, With grace triumphant, mild, And strange, you go your way, majestic child. Oh soft enchantress, I'll record with truth The diverse beauties that adorn your youth. Yes, I will paint your charm Of womanhood with childhood arm in arm. Your bosom juts and stretches every stitch, Triumphant bosom, like a coffer rich With bosses round and rare, Like shields that draw the lightning from the air. Provoking shields, with rosy points uplifted! Coffer of secret charms, superbly gifted, Whose scents, liqueurs, and wine Turn heart and brain deliriously thine. When you go sweeping your wide skirts, to me You seem a splendid ship that out to sea Spreads its full sails, and with them Goes rolling in a soft, slow, lazy rhythm. Your noble thighs, beneath the silks they swirl, Torment obscure desires and tease me, girl; Like sorcerers they are That stir black philtres in a deep, cool jar. Your arms precocious Hercules would grace And vie with pythons in their bright embrace: The pressure they impart Would print your lovers' image on your heart. Over your tall, round neck and those plump shoulders Your head swans forth its pride to all beholders, With grace triumphant, mild, And strange, you go your way, majestic child. Translated by - Roy Campbell

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