Читать книгу Poems of Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal) - Charles Baudelaire - Страница 6
ОглавлениеElevation
| Above the valleys and the lakes: beyond The woods, seas, clouds and mountain-ranges: far Above the sun, the aethers silver-swanned With nebulae, and the remotest star, My spirit! with agility you move Like a strong swimmer with the seas to fight, Through the blue vastness furrowing your groove With an ineffable and male delight. Far from these foetid marshes, be made pure In the pure air of the superior sky, And drink, like some most exquisite liqueur, The fire that fills the lucid realms on high. Beyond where cares or boredom hold dominion, Which charge our fogged existence with their spleen, Happy is he who with a stalwart pinion Can seek those fields so shining and serene: Whose thoughts, like larks, rise on the freshening breeze, Who fans the morning with his tameless wings, Skims over life, and understands with ease The speech of flowers and other voiceless things. |
