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    The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition)
    The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition)
    The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition)
    Ebook427 pages4 hours

    The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition)

    By Charles Baudelaire

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    Upon its original publication in 1857 Charles Baudelaire's "Les Fleurs du Mal" or "The Flowers of Evil" was embroiled in controversy. Within a month of its publication the French authorities brought an action against the author and the book's publisher claiming that the work was an insult to public decency. Eventually the French courts would acknowledge the literary merit of Baudelaire's work but ordered that six poems in particular should be banned from subsequent publication. The notoriety caused by this scandal would ultimately work in the author's favor causing the initial publication to sell out, thus prompting the publication of another edition. The second edition was published in 1861, it included an additional thirty-five poems, with the exclusion of the six poems censored by the French government. Finally in 1868 a third edition was published posthumously. This collection added an additional fourteen poems selected by two of Baudelaire's friends yet again excluded the six censored poems. Literary scholars generally agree that, while well-meaning, the addition of these poems in the third edition disrupt the structure intended by Baudelaire and thus the 1861 edition should be considered as the definitive edition. In this volume we reproduce that 1861 edition along with the six censored poems in the original French and in an English translation by William Aggeler. Rich with symbolism, "The Flowers of Evil" is rightly considered a classic of the modernist literary movement. Its themes of decadence and eroticism seek to exhibit Baudelaire's criticism of the Parisian society of his time.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigireads.com Publishing
    Release dateJan 1, 2015
    ISBN9781420950373
    The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition)
    Author

    Charles Baudelaire

    Charles Baudelaire, né le 9 avril 1821 à Paris, est l'un des poètes les plus influents et controversés de la poésie française. Connu pour son recueil révolutionnaire Les Fleurs du mal, Baudelaire a marqué le symbolisme par son exploration du spleen et de la modernité. Sa vie tumultueuse, marquée par des excès, des amours passionnées, et des luttes personnelles, a nourri une oeuvre où la beauté côtoie la mélancolie. Fils d'un ancien prêtre devenu fonctionnaire, Baudelaire a été profondément affecté par la mort prématurée de son père et le remariage de sa mère, ce qui a influencé sa vision du monde. Baudelaire a su capter l'essence de son époque, transformant ses expériences personnelles en une poésie intemporelle. Son influence sur la littérature classique est indéniable, faisant de lui un véritable chef-d'oeuvre de la poésie française. Ses écrits continuent d'inspirer de nouvelles générations, confirmant son statut d'icône littéraire. En plus de sa poésie, Baudelaire a également été un critique d'art perspicace, contribuant à l'émergence de l'art moderne. Il a défendu des artistes comme Eugène Delacroix et a été l'un des premiers à reconnaître le génie de Richard Wagner. Malgré les controverses et les procès pour immoralité auxquels il a dû faire face, Baudelaire a persévéré dans sa quête de l'idéal artistique, laissant derrière lui un héritage durable qui continue de résonner dans le monde littéraire et au-delà. Son exploration des thèmes de la beauté, de la déchéance, et de la rédemption, ainsi que son style unique, ont fait de lui une figure centrale du mouvement symboliste. Baudelaire est décédé à l'âge de 46 ans, laissant une empreinte indélébile sur la poésie et la culture mondiale.

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      Book preview

      The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du Mal (English and French Edition) - Charles Baudelaire

      cover.jpg

      THE FLOWERS OF EVIL / LES FLEURS DU MAL

      (ENGLISH AND FRENCH EDITION)

      BY CHARLES BAUDELAIRE

      TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM AGGELER

      Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5036-6

      ebook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5037-3

      This edition copyright © 2015

      Digireads.com Publishing

      Please visit www.digireads.com

      CONTENTS

      DEDICACE

      DEDICATION

      AU LECTEUR

      TO THE READER

      SPLEEN ET IDÉAL — SPLEEN AND IDEAL

      BENEDICTION

      BENEDICTION

      L'ALBATROS

      THE ALBATROSS

      ÉLEVATION

      ELEVATION

      CORRESPONDANCES

      CORRESPONDENCES

      J'AIME LE SOUVENIR DE CES EPOQUES NUES

      I LOVE TO THINK OF THOSE NAKED EPOCHS

      LES PHARES

      THE BEACONS

      LA MUSE MALADE

      THE SICK MUSE

      LA MUSE VENALE

      THE VENAL MUSE

      LE MAUVAIS MOINE

      THE BAD MONK

      L'ENNEMI

      THE ENEMY

      LE GUIGNON

      EVIL FATE

      LA VIE ANTERIEURE

      MY FORMER LIFE

      BOHEMIENS EN VOYAGE

      GYPSIES TRAVELING

      L'HOMME ET LA MER

      MAN AND THE SEA

      DON JUAN AUX ENFERS

      DON JUAN IN HADES

      CHATIMENT DE L'ORGUEIL

      PUNISHMENT FOR PRIDE

      LA BEAUTE

      BEAUTY

      L'IDEAL

      THE IDEAL

      LA GEANTE

      THE GIANTESS

      LE MASQUE

      THE MASK

      HYMNE A LA BEAUTE

      HYMN TO BEAUTY

      PARFUM EXOTIQUE

      EXOTIC PERFUME

      LA CHEVELURE

      HEAD OF HAIR

      JE T'ADORE A L'EGAL DE LA VOUTE NOCTURNE

      I ADORE YOU AS MUCH AS THE NOCTURNAL VAULT...

      TU METTRAIS L'UNIVERS ENTIER DANS TA RUELLE

      YOU WOULD TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD TO BED WITH YOU

      SED NON SATIATA

      UNSLAKEABLE LUST

      AVEC SES VETEMENTS ONDOYANTS ET NACRES

      WITH HER PEARLY, UNDULATING DRESSES

      LE SERPENT QUI DANSE

      THE DANCING SERPENT

      UNE CHAROGNE

      A CARCASS

      DE PROFUNDIS CLAMAVI

      OUT OF THE DEPTHS HAVE I CRIED

      LE VAMPIRE

      THE VAMPIRE

      UNE NUIT QUE J'ETAIS PRES D'UNE AFFREUSE JUIVE

      ONE NIGHT I LAY WITH A FRIGHTFUL JEWESS

      REMORDS POSTHUME

      POSTHUMOUS REMORSE

      LE CHAT

      THE CAT

      DUELLUM

      THE DUEL

      LE BALCON

      THE BALCONY

      LE POSSEDE

      THE ONE POSSESSED

      UN FANTOME

      A PHANTOM

      JE TE DONNE CES VERS AFIN QUE SI MON NOM

      I GIVE YOU THESE VERSES SO THAT IF MY NAME

      SEMPER EADEM

      EVER THE SAME

      TOUT ENTIERE

      ALL OF HER

      QUE DIRAS-TU CE SOIR, PAUVRE AME SOLITAIRE

      WHAT WILL YOU SAY TONIGHT, POOR SOLITARY SOUL

      LE FLAMBEAU VIVANT

      THE LIVING TORCH

      REVERSIBILITE

      REVERSIBILITY

      CONFESSION

      CONFESSION

      L'AUBE SPIRITUELLE

      SPIRITUAL DAWN

      HARMONIE DU SOIR

      EVENING HARMONY

      LE FLACON

      THE PERFUME FLASK

      LE POISON

      POISON

      CIEL BROUILLE

      CLOUDY SKY

      LE CHAT

      THE CAT

      LE BEAU NAVIRE

      THE BEAUTIFUL SHIP

      L'INVITATION AU VOYAGE

      INVITATION TO THE VOYAGE

      L'IRREPARABLE

      THE IRREPARABLE

      CAUSERIE

      CONVERSATION

      CHANT D'AUTOMNE

      SONG OF AUTUMN

      À UNE MADONE

      TO A MADONNA

      CHANSON D'APRES-MIDI

      AFTERNOON SONG

      SISINA

      SISINA

      FRANCISCAE MEAE LAUDES

      IN PRAISE OF MY FRANCES

      À UNE DAME CREOLE

      TO A CREOLE LADY

      MOESTA ET ERRABUNDA

      GRIEVING AND WANDERING

      LE REVENANT

      THE GHOST

      SONNET D'AUTOMNE

      AUTUMN SONNET

      TRISTESSES DE LA LUNE

      SADNESS OF THE MOON

      LES CHATS

      CATS

      LES HIBOUX

      OWLS

      LA PIPE

      THE PIPE

      LA MUSIQUE

      MUSIC

      SEPULTURE

      SEPULCHER

      UNE GRAVURE FANTASTIQUE

      A FANTASTIC PRINT

      LE MORT JOYEUX

      THE JOYFUL CORPSE

      LE TONNEAU DE LA HAINE

      HATRED'S CASK

      LA CLOCHE FELEE

      THE FLAWED BELL

      SPLEEN I

      SPLEEN I

      SPLEEN II

      SPLEEN II

      SPLEEN III

      SPLEEN III

      SPLEEN IV

      SPLEEN IV

      OBSESSION

      OBSESSION

      LE GOUT DU NEANT

      THE DESIRE FOR ANNIHILATION

      ALCHIMIE DE LA DOULEUR

      THE ALCHEMY OF SORROW

      HORREUR SYMPATHIQUE

      REFLECTED HORROR

      L'HEAUTONTIMOROUMENOS

      THE MAN WHO TORTURES HIMSELF

      L'IRREMEDIABLE

      BEYOND REDEMPTION

      L'HORLOGE

      THE CLOCK

      TABLEAUX PARISIENS — PARISIAN SCENES

      PAYSAGE

      LANDSCAPE

      LE SOLEIL

      THE SUN

      À UNE MENDIANTE ROUSSE

      TO AN AUBURN-HAIRED BEGGAR-MAID

      LE CYGNE

      THE SWAN

      LES SEPT VIEILLARDS

      THE SEVEN OLD MEN

      LES PETITES VIEILLES

      LITTLE OLD WOMEN

      LES AVEUGLES

      THE BLIND

      À UNE PASSANTE

      TO A PASSER-BY

      LE SQUELETTE LABOUREUR

      SKELETON WITH A SPADE

      LE CREPUSCULE DU SOIR

      TWILIGHT

      LE JEU

      GAMBLING

      DANSE MACABRE

      THE DANCE OF DEATH

      L'AMOUR DU MENSONGE

      THE LOVE OF LIES

      JE N'AI PAS OUBLIE, VOISINE DE LA VILLE

      I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN OUR WHITE COTTAGE

      LA SERVANTE AU GRAND COEUR DONT VOUS ETIEZ JALOUSE

      THE KIND-HEARTED SERVANT OF WHOM YOU WERE JEALOUS

      BRUMES ET PLUIES

      MIST AND RAIN

      REVE PARISIEN

      PARISIAN DREAM

      LE CREPUSCULE DU MATIN

      DAWN

      LE VIN — WINE

      L'AME DU VIN

      THE SOUL OF WINE

      LE VIN DE CHIFFONNIERS

      THE RAG-PICKER'S WINE

      LE VIN DE L'ASSASSIN

      THE MURDERER'S WINE

      LE VIN DU SOLITAIRE

      THE WINE OF THE SOLITARY

      LE VIN DES AMANTS

      THE WINE OF LOVERS

      FLEURS DU MAL — FLOWERS OF EVIL

      LA DESTRUCTION

      DESTRUCTION

      UNE MARTYRE

      A MARTYR

      FEMMES DAMNEES

      DAMNED WOMEN

      LES DEUX BONNES SOEURS

      THE TWO GOOD SISTERS

      LA FONTAINE DE SANG

      THE FOUNTAIN OF BLOOD

      ALLEGORIE

      ALLEGORY

      LA BEATRICE

      BEATRICE

      UN VOYAGE A CYTHERE

      A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA

      L'AMOUR ET LE CRANE

      CUPID AND THE SKULL

      RÉVOLTE—REVOLT

      LE RENIEMENT DE SAINT PIERRE

      THE DENIAL OF SAINT PETER

      ABEL ET CAÏN

      CAIN AND ABEL

      LES LITANIES DE SATAN

      THE LITANY OF SATAN

      LA MORT — DEATH

      LA MORT DES AMANTS

      THE DEATH OF LOVERS

      LA MORT DES PAUVRES

      THE DEATH OF THE POOR

      LA MORT DES ARTISTES

      THE DEATH OF ARTISTS

      LA FIN DE LA JOURNEE

      THE END OF THE DAY

      LE REVE D'UN CURIEUX

      THE DREAM OF A CURIOUS MAN

      LE VOYAGE

      THE VOYAGE

      PIÈCES CONDAMNÉES — CONDEMNED POEMS

      LESBOS

      LESBOS

      FEMMES DAMNÉES (DELPHINE ET HIPPOLYTE)

      DAMNED WOMEN (DELPHINE AND HIPPOLYTA)

      LE LETHE

      LETHE

      À CELLE QUI EST TROP GAIE

      TO ONE WHO IS TOO GAY

      LES BIJOUX

      THE JEWELS

      LES METAMORPHOSES DU VAMPIRE

      THE VAMPIRE'S METAMORPHOSES

      DEDICACE

      Au poète impeccable

      Au parfait magicien ès lettres françaises

      A mon très-cher et très-vénéré

      Maître et ami

      Théophile Gautier

      Avec les sentiments

      De la plus profonde humilité

      Je dédie

      Ces fleurs maladives

      C.B.

      DEDICATION

      To the impeccable poet

      To the pefect magician of French letters

      To my very dear and very revered

      Master and friend

      Théophile Gautier

      With sentiments

      Of the most profound humility

      I dedicate

      These unhealthy flowers

      AU LECTEUR

      La sottise, l'erreur, le péché, la lésine,

      Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps,

      Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords,

      Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine.

      Nos péchés sont têtus, nos repentirs sont lâches;

      Nous nous faisons payer grassement nos aveux,

      Et nous rentrons gaiement dans le chemin bourbeux,

      Croyant par de vils pleurs laver toutes nos taches.

      Sur l'oreiller du mal c'est Satan Trismégiste

      Qui berce longuement notre esprit enchanté,

      Et le riche métal de notre volonté

      Est tout vaporisé par ce savant chimiste.

      C'est le Diable qui tient les fils qui nous remuent!

      Aux objets répugnants nous trouvons des appas;

      Chaque jour vers l'Enfer nous descendons d'un pas,

      Sans horreur, à travers des ténèbres qui puent.

      Ainsi qu'un débauché pauvre qui baise et mange

      Le sein martyrisé d'une antique catin,

      Nous volons au passage un plaisir clandestin

      Que nous pressons bien fort comme une vieille orange.

      Serré, fourmillant, comme un million d'helminthes,

      Dans nos cerveaux ribote un peuple de Démons,

      Et, quand nous respirons, la Mort dans nos poumons

      Descend, fleuve invisible, avec de sourdes plaintes.

      Si le viol, le poison, le poignard, l'incendie,

      N'ont pas encor brodé de leurs plaisants dessins

      Le canevas banal de nos piteux destins,

      C'est que notre âme, hélas! n'est pas assez hardie.

      Mais parmi les chacals, les panthères, les lices,

      Les singes, les scorpions, les vautours, les serpents,

      Les monstres glapissants, hurlants, grognants, rampants,

      Dans la ménagerie infâme de nos vices,

      II en est un plus laid, plus méchant, plus immonde!

      Quoiqu'il ne pousse ni grands gestes ni grands cris,

      Il ferait volontiers de la terre un débris

      Et dans un bâillement avalerait le monde;

      C'est l'Ennui! L'oeil chargé d'un pleur involontaire,

      II rêve d'échafauds en fumant son houka.

      Tu le connais, lecteur, ce monstre délicat,

      —Hypocrite lecteur,—mon semblable,—mon frère!

      TO THE READER

      Folly, error, sin, avarice

      Occupy our minds and labor our bodies,

      And we feed our pleasant remorse

      As beggars nourish their vermin.

      Our sins are obstinate, our repentance is faint;

      We exact a high price for our confessions,

      And we gaily return to the miry path,

      Believing that base tears wash away all our stains.

      On the pillow of evil Satan, Trismegist,

      Incessantly lulls our enchanted minds,

      And the noble metal of our will

      Is wholly vaporized by this wise alchemist.

      The Devil holds the strings which move us!

      In repugnant things we discover charms;

      Every day we descend a step further toward Hell,

      Without horror, through gloom that stinks.

      Like a penniless rake who with kisses and bites

      Tortures the breast of an old prostitute,

      We steal as we pass by a clandestine pleasure

      That we squeeze very hard like a dried up orange.

      Serried, swarming, like a million maggots,

      A legion of Demons carouses in our brains,

      And when we breathe, Death, that unseen river,

      Descends into our lungs with muffled wails.

      If rape, poison, daggers, arson

      Have not yet embroidered with their pleasing designs

      The banal canvas of our pitiable lives,

      It is because our souls have not enough boldness.

      But among the jackals, the panthers, the bitch hounds,

      The apes, the scorpions, the vultures, the serpents,

      The yelping, howling, growling, crawling monsters,

      In the filthy menagerie of our vices,

      There is one more ugly, more wicked, more filthy!

      Although he makes neither great gestures nor great cries,

      He would willingly make of the earth a shambles

      And, in a yawn, swallow the world;

      He is Ennui!—His eye watery as though with tears,

      He dreams of scaffolds as he smokes his hookah pipe.

      You know him reader, that refined monster,

      —Hypocritish reader,—my fellow,—my brother!

      SPLEEN ET IDÉAL — SPLEEN AND IDEAL

      BENEDICTION

      Lorsque, par un décret des puissances suprêmes,

      Le Poète apparaît en ce monde ennuyé,

      Sa mère épouvantée et pleine de blasphèmes

      Crispe ses poings vers Dieu, qui la prend en pitié:

      —«Ah! que n'ai-je mis bas tout un noeud de vipères,

      Plutôt que de nourrir cette dérision!

      Maudite soit la nuit aux plaisirs éphémères

      Où mon ventre a conçu mon expiation!

      Puisque tu m'as choisie entre toutes les femmes

      Pour être le dégoût de mon triste mari,

      Et que je ne puis pas rejeter dans les flammes,

      Comme un billet d'amour, ce monstre rabougri,

      Je ferai rejaillir ta haine qui m'accable

      Sur l'instrument maudit de tes méchancetés,

      Et je tordrai si bien cet arbre misérable,

      Qu'il ne pourra pousser ses boutons empestés!»

      Elle ravale ainsi l'écume de sa haine,

      Et, ne comprenant pas les desseins éternels,

      Elle-même prépare au fond de la Géhenne

      Les bûchers consacrés aux crimes maternels.

      Pourtant, sous la tutelle invisible d'un Ange,

      L'Enfant déshérité s'enivre de soleil

      Et dans tout ce qu'il boit et dans tout ce qu'il mange

      Retrouve l'ambroisie et le nectar vermeil.

      II joue avec le vent, cause avec le nuage,

      Et s'enivre en chantant du chemin de la croix;

      Et l'Esprit qui le suit dans son pèlerinage

      Pleure de le voir gai comme un oiseau des bois.

      Tous ceux qu'il veut aimer l'observent avec crainte,

      Ou bien, s'enhardissant de sa tranquillité,

      Cherchent à qui saura lui tirer une plainte,

      Et font sur lui l'essai de leur férocité.

      Dans le pain et le vin destinés à sa bouche

      Ils mêlent de la cendre avec d'impurs crachats;

      Avec hypocrisie ils jettent ce qu'il touche,

      Et s'accusent d'avoir mis leurs pieds dans ses pas.

      Sa femme va criant sur les places publiques:

      «Puisqu'il me trouve assez belle pour m'adorer,

      Je ferai le métier des idoles antiques,

      Et comme elles je veux me faire redorer;

      Et je me soûlerai de nard, d'encens, de myrrhe,

      De génuflexions, de viandes et de vins,

      Pour savoir si je puis dans un coeur qui m'admire

      Usurper en riant les hommages divins!

      Et, quand je m'ennuierai de ces farces impies,

      Je poserai sur lui ma frêle et forte main;

      Et mes ongles, pareils aux ongles des harpies,

      Sauront jusqu'à son coeur se frayer un chemin.

      Comme un tout jeune oiseau qui tremble et qui palpite,

      J'arracherai ce coeur tout rouge de son sein,

      Et, pour rassasier ma bête favorite

      Je le lui jetterai par terre avec dédain!»

      Vers le Ciel, où son oeil voit un trône splendide,

      Le Poète serein lève ses bras pieux

      Et les vastes éclairs de son esprit lucide

      Lui dérobent l'aspect des peuples furieux:

      —«Soyez béni, mon Dieu, qui donnez la souffrance

      Comme un divin remède à nos impuretés

      Et comme la meilleure et la plus pure essence

      Qui prépare les forts aux saintes voluptés!

      Je sais que vous gardez une place au Poète

      Dans les rangs bienheureux des saintes Légions,

      Et que vous l'invitez à l'éternelle fête

      Des Trônes, des Vertus, des Dominations.

      Je sais que la douleur est la noblesse unique

      Où ne mordront jamais la terre et les enfers,

      Et qu'il faut pour tresser ma couronne mystique

      Imposer tous les temps et tous les univers.

      Mais les bijoux perdus de l'antique Palmyre,

      Les métaux inconnus, les perles de la mer,

      Par votre main montés, ne pourraient pas suffire

      A ce beau diadème éblouissant et clair;

      Car il ne sera fait que de pure lumière,

      Puisée au foyer saint des rayons primitifs,

      Et dont les yeux mortels, dans leur splendeur entière,

      Ne sont que des miroirs obscurcis et plaintifs!»

      BENEDICTION

      When, after a decree of the supreme powers,

      The Poet is brought forth in this wearisome world,

      His mother terrified and full of blasphemies

      Raises her clenched fist to God, who pities her:

      —"Ah! would that I had spawned a whole knot of vipers

      Rather than to have fed this derisive object!

      Accursed be the night of ephemeral joy

      When my belly conceived this, my expiation!

      Since of all women You have chosen me

      To be repugnant to my sorry spouse,

      And since I cannot cast this misshapen monster

      Into the flames, like an old love letter,

      I shall spew the hatred with which you crush me down

      On the cursed instrument of your malevolence,

      And twist so hard this wretched tree

      That it cannot put forth its pestilential buds!"

      Thus she gulps down the froth of her hatred,

      And not understanding the eternal designs,

      Herself prepares deep down in Gehenna

      The pyre reserved for a mother's crimes.

      However, protected by an unseen Angel,

      The outcast child is enrapt by the sun,

      And in all that he eats, in everything he drinks,

      He finds sweet ambrosia and rubiate nectar.

      He cavorts with the wind, converses with the clouds,

      And singing, transported, goes the way of the cross;

      And the Angel who follows him on pilgrimage

      Weeps to see him as carefree as a bird.

      All those whom he would love watch him with fear,

      Or, emboldened by his tranquility,

      Emulously attempt to wring a groan from him

      And test on him their inhumanity.

      With the bread and the wine intended for his mouth

      They mix ashes and foul spittle,

      And, hypocrites, cast away what he touches

      And feel guilty if they have trod in his footprints.

      His wife goes about the market-places

      Crying: "Since he finds me fair enough to adore,

      I shall imitate the idols of old,

      And like them I want to be regilded;

      I shall get drunk with spikenard, incense, myrrh,

      And with genuflections, viands and wine,

      To see if laughingly I can usurp

      In an admiring heart the homage due to God!

      And when I tire of these impious jokes,

      I shall lay upon him my strong, my dainty hand;

      And my nails, like harpies' talons,

      Will cut a path straight to his heart.

      That heart which flutters like a fledgling bird

      I'll tear, all bloody, from his breast,

      And scornfully I'll throw it in the dust

      To sate the hunger of my favorite hound!"

      To Heav'n, where his eye sees a radiant throne,

      Piously, the Poet, serene, raises his arms,

      And the dazzling brightness of his illumined mind

      Hides from his sight the raging mob:

      —"Praise be to You, O God, who send us suffering

      As a divine remedy for our impurities

      And as the best and the purest essence

      To prepare the strong for holy ecstasies!

      I know that you reserve a place for the Poet

      Within the blessed ranks of the holy Legions,

      And that you invite him to the eternal feast

      Of the Thrones, the Virtues, and the Dominations.

      I know that suffering is the sole nobility

      Which earth and hell shall never mar,

      And that to

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