Hymn to Beauty
from Baudelaire
Are you from the abyss or the sky sublime,
O Beauty? Your look, infernal, divine,
Confusedly issues good deeds and crime,
And for that we can compare you to wine.
Your eye holds the sunset and sunrise in mixture;
Like a tempestuous night, you spill perfume;
Your mouth's an amphora, your kisses, elixir
Which makes children courageous and heroes fear doom.
Do you descend from the stars or quit the abyss?
Like a dog at your skirts, does Destiny crawl;
At random, you sow disasters and bliss,
Answer for nothing yet govern it all.
You walk on the dead, of whom you make fools;
Some gems charm less, but your Horror moreso,
And Murder, among your costliest jewels,
Dances sumptuously on your arrogant torso.
Towards you, candle, the mayflies fly:
"Bless this inferno!" they burn, crackle, rave;
On his beauty, a panting lover will lie
Like a moribund caressing his marble grave.
That you come from heaven or hell, so what,
O Beauty! dread monster, vast and naive!
If your eye, smile, foot, pry open a shut
Infinity I love and could not conceive?
Of Satan or God, so what? Angel or Siren,
So what, as long as you make -- what eyes can express,
Rhythm, glimmer, fragrance, O my only tyrant! --
The world less hideous and instants weigh less?