Читать книгу Poems of Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal) - Charles Baudelaire - Страница 7
ОглавлениеCorrespondences
| Nature’s a temple where each living column, At times, gives forth vague words. There Man advances Through forest-groves of symbols, strange and solemn, Who follow him with their familiar glances. As long-drawn echoes mingle and transfuse Till in a deep, dark unison they swoon, Vast as the night or as the vault of noon— So are commingled perfumes, sounds, and hues. There can be perfumes cool as children’s flesh, Like fiddles, sweet, like meadows greenly fresh. Rich, complex, and triumphant, others roll With the vast range of all non-finite things— Amber, musk, incense, benjamin, each sings The transports of the senses and the soul. |
