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

Fanfarlo

Důvěrný deník


originale française

Les fleurs du mal

Petits poemes en prose

La Fanfarlo


Baudelaire in English

The Flowers of Evil

» Prose Poems «

» The Stranger «
The Confiteor Of the Artist
The Double Chamber
Every Man His Chimera
Venus And the Fool
The Glass-vendor
At One O'Clock In the Morning
The Widows
The Invitation To the Voyage
The Temptations
The Thyrsus - To Franz Liszt
Intoxication
Already!
The Desire To Paint
The Gifts Of the Moon
What Is Truth?
The Marksman
The Shooting-range And the Cemetery.

Fanfarlo




Navštivte

Malý koutek poezie

Malý koutek poezie


Baudelaire


Prose Poems

    Next


The Stranger


Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love best? Your father, your mother, your sister, or your brother?
" I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother."
Your friends, then?
"You use a word that until now has had no meaning for me."
Your country?
"I am ignorant of the latitude in which it is situated."
Then Beauty?
"Her I would love willingly, goddess and immortal."
Gold?
"I hate it as you hate your God."
What, then, extraordinary stranger, do you love?
"I love the clouds the clouds that pass yonder the marvellous clouds."








www.baudelaire.cz :: Since 2002 :: Based On Layout Designed By Danny Is On Fire Productions © 2006