Charles Baudelaire :: svět prokletého básníka :: Poezie a próza
Úvodní stránka  |  Poezie a próza  |  Život v datech  |  Galerie  |  Citáty a glosy  |  Téma Baudelaire  |  Odkazy
English version  |  Version Française

české překlady

Květy zla

Malé básně v próze

Báseň o hašiši


Důvěrný deník

originale française

Les fleurs du mal

Petits poemes en prose

La Fanfarlo

Baudelaire in English

» The Flowers of Evil «

To the Reader

Spleen and the Ideal
The Albatross
The Elevation
I love the thought...
The Beacons
The Sicks Muse
The Venal Muse
The Wretched Monk
The Enemy
Ill Fortune
A Former Life
Gypsies Travelling
Man and the Sea
Don Juan in Hell
Punishment for Pride
The Ideal
The Giantess
The Mask
Hymn to Beauty
The Jewels
Exotic Parfume
Head of Hair
I love you as I love...
You'd entertain the universe...
Sed non satiata
The way her silky garments...
The Dancing Serpent
A Carcass
De profundis clamavi
The Vampyre
Beside a monstrous Jewish whore...
Remorse after Death
The Cat
The Balcony
The Possessed
A Phantom
I give to you these verses...
Semper Eadem
Completely One
What will you say tonight...
The Living Torch
To One Who Is Too Cheerful
The Spiritual Dawn
The Harmony of Evening
The Flask
Misty Sky
The Cat
The Splendid Ship
Invitation to the Voyage
» The Irreparable «
Autumn Song
To a Madonna
Song of the Afternoon
Praises for My Francisca
For a Creole Lady
Moesta et errabunda
The Ghost
Autumn Sonnet
Sorrows of the Moon
The Pipe
A Fantastical Engraving
The Happy Corpse
The Cask of Hate
The Cracked Bell
The Taste for Nothingness
Alchemy of Suffering
Congenial Horror
Prayer of a Pagan
The Pot Lid
Midnight Examination
Sad Madrigal
The Cautioner
The Rebel
Very Far From France
The Gulf
Lament of an Icarus
The Irremediable
The Clock

Parisian Scenes
The Sun
The Insulted Moon
To a Red-Haired Beggar Girl
The Swan
The Seven Old Man
The Little Old Women
The Blind
To a Woman Passing By
Skeletons Digging
Danse macabre
The Love of Illusion
I have not forgotten...
That kind heart you were jealous of...
Mists and Rains
Parisian Dream

The Soul of Wine
The Ragman's Wine
The Murderer's Wine
The Solitary's Wine
The Lovers' Wine

Flowers of Evil
Epigraph for a Condemned Book
A Martyr
Condemned Women: Delphine and Hippolyta
Condemned Women
The Two Good Sisters
The Fountain of Blood
A Beatrice
The Metamorphoses of the Vampire
A Voyage to Cythera
Passion and the Skull

St Peter's Denial
Abel and Cain
Litanies of Satan

The Death of Lovers
The Death of the Poor
The Death of Artists
Day's End
Dream of a Curious Man

To Theodore de Banville

The Waifs
The Setting of the Romantic Sun

The Fountain
Bertha's Eyes
A Face Makes Promises
The Monster

Poem on the Portrait of Honoré Daumier
Lola de Valence
On Tasso in Prison

Diverse Pieces
The Voice
The Unforeseen
The Ransom
To a Girl of Malabar

On the Debut of Amina Boschetti
To M. Eugene Fromentin
A Jolly Tavern

Prose Poems



Malý koutek poezie

Malý koutek poezie


The Flowers of Evil

Previous    Next

The Irreparable

How can we kill the long, the old Remorse
That lives, writhes, twists itself
And mines us as the worm devours the dead,
The cankerworm the oak?
How can we choke the old, the long Remorse?

And what brew, or what philtre, or what wine
Could drown this enemy,
As deadly as the avid courtesan,
And patient as the ant?
In what brew? - in what philtre? - in what wine?

Oh, say it if you know, sweet sorceress!
To this my anguished soul,
Like one who's dying, crushed by wounded men,
Stamped, trampled by a horse's hoof.
Oh, say it if you know, sweet sorceress,

To this man whom the wolf already sniffs
And whom the crow surveys,
This broken soldier! Must he then despair
Of having cross and tomb,
This dying man the wolf already sniffs!

Can one light up a black and muddy sky?
Tear through a murkiness
Thicker than pitch, no evening and no dawn,
No stars, no mournful flares?
Can one light up a black and muddy sky?

The Hope that shines at windows of the Inn
Is gone, forever gone!
No moon, no rays to light the way to rest
For martyrs on the road!
Satan has blown the lights out at the Inn!

Enchantress, say it - do you love the damned?
The irremissible,
You know it? Know Remorse, whose poisoned shafts
Find targets in our hearts?
Enchantress, say it - do you love the damned?

The Irreparable with cursed tooth
Gnaws souls, weak monuments,
And often, like the termite, he invades
The structures at their base.
The Irreparable gnaws with sharp tooth!

- I've seen, within a tawdry theatre
Warmed by a brazen band,
A fairy, from a hellish sky, light up
The miracle of dawn;
Sometimes I've seen within a theatre

A Being made of light, and gold, and gauze
Lay the great Satan low;
But in my heart, no home to ecstasy,
Sad playhouse, one awaits
Always in vain, the fine and filmy wings!

Přeložil James McGowan

originale française: LIV. L'Irréparable

český překlad: Nenapravitelné

The irremissible: the unpardonable sin.
Sometimes I've seen within a theatre: in 1847 Marie Daubrun acted the leading role in a play entitled The Girl With the Golden Hair, in which a fairy (not played by Daubrun) defeats diabolical forces. Baudelaire seems deliberately to have blended the two roles of heroine and fairy for the purposes of this poem. In its first publication in 1855, the poem was entitled 'To the Girl with the Golden Hair'. :: Since 2002 :: Based On Layout Designed By Danny Is On Fire Productions © 2006