Be wise, O my Sorrow, be calmer. You implored the evening; it falls; here it is: A dusky air surrounds the town, Bringing peace to some, worry to others.

. Whilst the worthless crowd of humanity, Lashed by Pleasure, that merciless torturer, Go to gather remorse in slavish rejoicing, Give me your hand, my Sorrow; come with me,

. Far from them. See the dead years leaning, In worn-out clothing, on the balconies of the skies; See how Regret, grinning, rises from the deep waters;

. The dying sun goes to sleep in an archway, And, like a long shroud dragging from the East, Hear, O my dear one, hear the soft night coming.

. — Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

Recueillement Charles BAUDELAIRE Recueil : "Les Fleurs du Mal"

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