Читать книгу Poems of Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal) - Charles Baudelaire - Страница 18
ОглавлениеDon Juan in Hell
| When, having reached the subterranean wave, Don Juan paid his passage from the shore, Proud as Antisthenes, a surly knave With vengeful arms laid hold of either oar. With hanging breasts between their mantles showing Sad women, writhing under the black sky, Made, as they went, the sound of cattle lowing As from a votive herd that’s led to die. Sganarelle for his wages seemed to linger, And laughed; while to the dead assembled there, Don Luis pointed out with trembling finger The son who dared to flout his silver hair. Chilled in her crêpe, the chaste and thin Elvira, Standing up close to her perfidious spouse, Seemed to be pleading from her old admirer For that which thrilled his first, unbroken vows. A great stone man in armour leaped aboard; Seizing the helm, the coal-black wave he cleft. But the calm hero, leaning on his sword, Had eyes for nothing but the wake they left. |
