Friday, December 25, 2009

Au lecteur

C'est le Diable qui tient les fils qui nous remuent!
Aux objets répugnants nous trouvons des appas;
Chaque jour vers l'Enfer nous descendons d'un pas,
Sans horreur, à travers des ténèbres qui puent.

[ . . . ]

Si le viol, le poison, le poignard, l'incendie,
N'ont pas encor brodé de leurs plaisants dessins
Le canevas banal de nos piteux destins,
C'est que notre âme, hélas! n'est pas assez hardie.

~ Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal

5 comments:

Orlando C. said...

You're too funny, Oats. When I was reading through the last few posts, trying to formulate an opinion, I kept thinking: "Well, what if this were Baudelaire writing a blog? Would I be concerned that Nadar was exploiting him, or would I just enjoy the poems?"

No answer to that. But I'm glad to see you're asking the same questions.

oatmeal girl said...

Ah, chéri, I should have known you would appreciate this. I've been thinking about Baudelaire for a couple of days now.

And I wonder how many understand that the last line I quoted is a statement of safety, albeit expressed with regret.

At least I don't have to worry about ennui...

Hope you two are hanging in there. You're the ones I worry about.

o.g.

worm said...

I am also very pleased to see this post :)

Anonymous said...

*smiles* your soul is very bold and very very lovely to behold.

Okay I'm not a poet but the words are heart felt.

Louise said...

Baudelaire did ask the same questions... and I'm sure you don't mind I quote the last lines of Au lecteur:

"C'est l'Ennui! L'oeil charge d'un pleur involontaire,
Il reve d'echafauds en fumant son houka.
Tu le connais, lecteur, ce monstre delicat,
- Hypocrite lecteur, - mon semblable, - mon frere!"

xxx