Charles Baudelaire (9 April 1821 – 31 August 1867 / Paris)
You can scorn more illustrious eyes,
sweet eyes of my child, through which there takes flight
something as good or as tender as night.
Turn to mine your charmed shadows, sweet eyes!
Great eyes of a child, adorable secrets,
you resemble those grottoes of magic
where, behind the dark and lethargic,
shine vague treasures the world forgets.
My child has veiled eyes, profound and vast,
and shining like you, Night, immense, above!
Their fires are of Trust, mixed with thoughts of Love,
that glitter in depths, voluptuous or chaste.
Poet Other Poems
- À Une Dame Créole (To A Creole Lady)
- A Une Madone (To A Madonna)
- Alchimie de la douleur (The Alchemy of S...
- Anywhere Out of the World
- At One O'Clock In The Morning
- Au Lecteur
- Avec ses vêtements ondoyants et nacrés (...
- Be Drunk
- Bénédiction (Benediction)
- Bertha’s Eyes
- Bohémiens En Voyage (Gypsies On The Road...
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.