AL READER
Of Charles Baudelaire
Ignorance sin el, Hvar and error reign over us
heart, weakened our bodies and our lovely
remorse
fed them as a beggar to his insect feeds.
stubborn sins, vague remorse - and sold
care of our confessions
happy now we go back on the track with mud
believing those vile tears cleaned.
on the pillow of evil Satan Trismegistus
long cradle and persuades us
and dissolves, skilled alchemist,
little smoke in the rich metal of our will.
And 'the Devil pulling our threads!
disgusting objects seem attractive
and hell every day we are more of an inside pitch, drilling
quiet and dark miasma.
The depraved misery sucks in and enjoy
Breast battered old whore:
so we try to squeeze an orange lean,
few fleeting and furtive pleasure. In closed
of our brain, and triggers swarms
million people of Demons
death, while we breathe, lung
us down, clear river, with deaf groans.
And if rape or poison, or fire knife
have not yet, beautiful embroidered
raw canvas of our wretched destinies
is only for lack of courage.
But among the jackals, the panthers and lynxes,
monkeys, scorpions, vultures, snakes, monsters that
guaiscono and howling, grunting and
bestiary of our vices, [and infamous crawl
one is still an ugly and vicious, the most unclean, a
that even if it does not move much and cries
would reduce the land to a pile of rubble in the back of his
and bury the world yawns:
boredom! With serious eyes of a mechanical plant
smokes a pipe dream and hangings ... Did you see
too, reader, that monster
delicate - you hypocritical reader who look like me, brother!
Charles Baudelaire
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