1、Fleurs du mal, 1861 edition, plus condemned poems (Les paves)http:/fleursdumal.org/toc_1861.phpTable of Contents :Table of Contents DdicaceDedication Au LecteurTo the ReaderSpleen et idal / Spleen and Ideal BndictionBenediction LAlbatrosThe Albatross lvationElevation CorrespondancesCorrespondences J
2、aime le souvenir de ces poques nuesI love the memory of those naked epochs. Les PharesThe Beacons La Muse maladeThe Sick Muse La Muse vnaleThe Venal Muse Le Mauvais MoineThe Bad Monk LEnnemiThe Enemy Le GuignonBad Luck La Vie antrieurePast Life Bohmiens en voyageTraveling Gypsies LHomme et la merMan
3、 and the Sea Don Juan aux enfersDon Juan in Hell Chtiment de lorgeuilPunishment of Pride La BeautBeauty LIdalThe Ideal La GanteThe Giantess Le MasqueThe Mask Hymne la BeautHymn to Beauty Parfum exotiqueExotic Perfume La ChevelureHair Je tadore lgal de la vote nocturneI adore you as much as the noctu
4、rnal vault. Tu mettrais lunivers entier dans ta ruelleYou would take the entire world to bed with you. Sed non satiataNever Satisfied Avec ses vtements ondoyants et nacrsWith her pearly undulating dresses. Le Serpent qui danseThe Dancing Serpent Une CharogneA Carcass De profundis clamaviFrom the Dep
5、ths I Cried Le VampireThe Vampire Une nuit que jtais prs dune affreuse JuiveOne night when I lay beside a frightful Jewess. Remords posthumePosthumous Remorse Le ChatThe cat DuellumThe Duel Le BalconThe Balcony Le PossdThe Possessed Un FantmeA Phantom Je te donne ces vers afin que si mon nomI give y
6、ou these verses so if my name. Semper eademAlways the Same Tout entireAll Together Que diras-tu ce soir, pauvre me solitaireWhat will you say tonight, poor solitary soul. Le Flambeau vivantThe Living Torch RversibilitReversibility ConfessionConfession LAube spirituelleSpiritual Dawn Harmonie du soir
7、Evening Harmony Le FlaconThe Perfume Flask Le PoisonPoison Ciel brouillCloudy Sky Le ChatThe Cat Le Beau navireThe Beautiful Ship LInvitation au voyageInvitation to the Voyage LIrrparableThe Irreparable CauserieConversation Chant dautomneAutumn Song une MadoneTo a Madonna Chanson daprs-midiAfternoon
8、 Song SisinaSisina Franciscae meae laudesIn Praise of My Frances une dame croleTo a Creole Lady Moesta et errabundaGrieving and Wandering Le RevenantThe Ghost Sonnet dautomneAutumn Sonnet Tristesses de la luneSorrows of the Moon Les ChatsThe Cats Les HibouxThe Owls La PipeThe Pipe La MusiqueMusic Sp
9、ultureSepulchre Une Gravure fantastiqueA Fantastic Engraving Le Mort joyeuxThe Grateful Dead Le Tonneau de la haineThe Cask of Hatred La Cloche fleThe Broken Bell Spleen (Pluvise irrit)Spleen (Pluvius, irritated.) Spleen (Jai plus de souvenirs)Spleen (I have more memories.) Spleen (Je suis comme le
10、roi)Spleen (Im like the king.) Spleen (Quand le ciel bas et lourd)Spleen (When the sky low and heavy.) ObsessionObsession Le Got du nantThe Taste for Nothingness Alchimie de la douleurThe Alchemy of Grief Horreur sympathiqueSympathetic Horror LHautontimouromnosThe Self-Tormenter LIrremdiableThe Irre
11、mediable LHorlogeThe ClockTableaux Parisiens / Parisian Scenes PaysageLandscape Le SoleilThe Sun une mendiante rousseTo a Mendicant Redhead Le CygneThe Swan Les Sept VieillardsThe Seven Old Men Les Petites VieillesThe Little Old Ladies Les AveuglesThe Blind une passanteTo a Passerby Le Squelette lab
12、oureurThe Hard-Working Skeleton Le Crpuscule du soirEvening Crepuscule Le JeuGambling Danse macabreDanse Macabre LAmour du mensongeThe Love of Lies Je nai pas oubli, voisine de la villeI have not forgotten, near the city. La servante au grand coeur dont vous tiez jalouseThe kind-hearted servant of w
13、hom you were jealous. Brumes et pluiesMists and Rains Rve parisienParisian Dream Le Crpuscule du matinMorning CrepusculeLe Vin / Wine Lme du vinThe Soul of Wine Le Vin des chiffonniersThe Rag-Pickers Wine Le Vin de lassassinThe Murderers Wine Le Vin du solitaireThe Lonely Mans Wine Le Vin des amants
14、The Lovers WineFleurs du mal / Flowers of Evil La DstructionDestruction Une MartyreA Martyr Femmes damnes (Comme un btail pensif)Women Doomed (Like pensive cattle.) Les Deux Bonnes SoeursThe Two Good Sisters La Fontaine du sangThe Fountain of Blood AllgorieAllegory La BatriceBeatrice Un Voyage Cythr
15、eA Voyage to Cythera LAmour et le crneLove and the SkullRvolte / Revolt Le Reniement de saint PierreThe Denial of Saint Peter Abel et CanAbel and Cain Les Litanies de SatanThe Litanies of SatanLa Mort / Death La Mort des amantsThe Death of Lovers La Mort des pauvresThe Death of the Poor La Mort des
16、artistesThe Death of Artists La Fin de la journeEnd of the Day Le Rve dun curieuxDream of a Curious Man Le VoyageThe VoyageLes paves / Scraps1866Although Baudelaire had become increasingly successful as a writer, his success brought him more notoriety than income. In 1864 he moved from Paris to Brus
17、sels, largely to evade creditors. Earlier his friend and publisher Auguste Poulet-Malassis had also moved to Brussels to escape legal trouble, so together the two decided to put out another book of Baudelaires verse.This new work was not intended to be a comprehensive collection. It was, instead, a
18、collection of incidental and recent verse hence the title “paves“ or scraps. It also included the six poems censored from the first edition of Les Fleurs du mal. Published in February 1866 in an edition of only two hundred and sixty copies (plus ten hors commerce), Les paves contained twenty-three p
19、oems, an introduction by Poulet-Malassis, and a frontispiece of the author by Flicien Rops.It was the last book overseen by Baudelaire himself, who suffered a debilitating stroke in March, 1866, and died the following year back in Paris.Table of Contents Le Coucher du soleil romantiqueThe Sunset of
20、RomanticismPices condamnes / Condemned Poems LesbosLesbos Femmes damnes ( la ple clart)Women Doomed (In the pale glimmer.) Le LthLethe celle qui est trop gaieTo She Who Is Too Gay Les BijouxThe Jewels Les Mtamorphoses du VampireThe Vampires MetamorphosesGalanteries / Gallantries Le Jet deauThe Fount
21、ain Les Yeux de BertheBerthes Eyes HymneHymn Les Promesses dun visageThe Promises of a Face Le MonstreThe Monster Franciscae meae laudesIn Praise of My Francespigraphes / Epigraphs Vers pour le portrait dHonor DaumierVerses for the Portrait of Honor Daumier Lola de ValenceLola de Valence Sur Le Tass
22、e en prison dEugne DelacroixOn Eugene Delacroixs Tasso in PrisonPices diverses / Miscellaneous Poems La VoixThe Voice LImprvuThe Unforeseen La RanonThe Ransom une MalabaraiseTo a Lady of MalabarBouffonneries / Buffooneries Sur les Dbuts dAmina BoschettiOn the Debut of Amina Boschetti M. Eugne Fromen
23、tinTo M. Eugne Fromentin Un Cabaret foltreA Jolly CabaretDdicaceAu pote impeccableAu parfait magicien s lettres franaisesA mon trs-cher et trs-vnrMatre et amiThophile Gautier Avec les sentimentsDe la plus profonde humilitJe ddieCes fleurs maladivesC.B. Charles BaudelaireDedication To the impeccable
24、poetTo the pefect magician of French letters To my very dear and very reveredMaster and friendThophile GautierWith sentimentsOf the most profound humilityI dedicateThese unhealthy flowersC.B. William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)Au Lecteur La sottise, lerreur
25、, le pch, la lsine,Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps,Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords,Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine.Nos pchs sont ttus, nos repentirs sont lches;Nous nous faisons payer grassement nos aveux,Et nous rentrons gaiement dans le chemin bourbeux,Croyant pa
26、r de vils pleurs laver toutes nos taches.Sur loreiller du mal cest Satan TrismgisteQui berce longuement notre esprit enchant,Et le riche mtal de notre volontEst tout vaporis par ce savant chimiste.Cest le Diable qui tient les fils qui nous remuent!Aux objets rpugnants nous trouvons des appas;Chaque
27、jour vers lEnfer nous descendons dun pas,Sans horreur, travers des tnbres qui puent.Ainsi quun dbauch pauvre qui baise et mangeLe sein martyris dune antique catin,Nous volons au passage un plaisir clandestinQue nous pressons bien fort comme une vieille orange.Serr, fourmillant, comme un million dhel
28、minthes,Dans nos cerveaux ribote un peuple de Dmons,Et, quand nous respirons, la Mort dans nos poumonsDescend, fleuve invisible, avec de sourdes plaintes.Si le viol, le poison, le poignard, lincendie,Nont pas encor brod de leurs plaisants dessinsLe canevas banal de nos piteux destins,Cest que notre
29、me, hlas! nest pas assez hardie.Mais parmi les chacals, les panthres, les lices,Les singes, les scorpions, les vautours, les serpents,Les monstres glapissants, hurlants, grognants, rampants,Dans la mnagerie infme de nos vices,II en est un plus laid, plus mchant, plus immonde!Quoiquil ne pousse ni gr
30、ands gestes ni grands cris,Il ferait volontiers de la terre un dbrisEt dans un billement avalerait le monde;Cest lEnnui! Loeil charg dun pleur involontaire,II rve dchafauds en fumant son houka.Tu le connais, lecteur, ce monstre dlicat, Hypocrite lecteur, mon semblable, mon frre! Charles BaudelaireTo
31、 the ReaderFolly, 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 wa
32、sh 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 tow
33、ard 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 c
34、arouses 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
35、 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 wil
36、lingly 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! William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fres
37、no, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)To the Reader Folly and error, avarice and vice, Employ our souls and waste our bodies force. As mangey beggars incubate their lice, We nourish our innocuous remorse.Our sins are stubborn, craven our repentance. For our weak vows we ask excessive prices. Trusting
38、our tears will wash away the sentence, We sneak off where the muddy road entices.Cradled in evil, that Thrice-Great Magician, The Devil, rocks our souls, that cant resist; And the rich metal of our own volition Is vaporised by that sage alchemist.The Devil pulls the strings by which were worked: By
39、all revolting objects lured, we slink Hellwards; each day down one more step were jerked Feeling no horror, through the shades that stink.Just as a lustful pauper bites and kisses The scarred and shrivelled breast of an old whore, We steal, along the roadside, furtive blisses, Squeezing them, like s
40、tale oranges, for more.Packed tight, like hives of maggots, thickly seethingWithin our brains a host of demons surges. Deep down into our lungs at every breathing, Death flows, an unseen river, moaning dirges.If rape or arson, poison, or the knife Has wove no pleasing patterns in the stuff Of this d
41、rab canvas we accept as life It is because we are not bold enough!Amongst the jackals, leopards, mongrels, apes, Snakes, scorpions, vultures, that with hellish din, Squeal, roar, writhe, gambol, crawl, with monstrous shapes, In each mans foul menagerie of sin Theres one more damned than all. He neve
42、r gambols,Nor crawls, nor roars, but, from the rest withdrawn,Gladly of this whole earth would make a shamblesAnd swallow up existence with a yawn.Boredom! He smokes his hookah, while he dreams Of gibbets, weeping tears he cannot smother. You know this dainty monster, too, it seems Hypocrite reader!
43、 You! My twin! My brother! Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)To the ReaderFolly and error, sin and avarice, Labor our minds and bodies in their course, Blithely we nourish pleasurable remorse As beggars feed their parasitic lice.Our sins are stubborn, our repentance f
44、aint, We sell our weak confessions at high price, Returning gaily to the bogs of vice, Thinking base tears can cleanse our every taint.Pillowed on evil, Satan Trismegist Ceaselessly cradles our enchanted mind, The flawless metal of our will we find Volatilized by this rare alchemist.The Devil holds
45、the puppet threads; and swayed By noisome things and their repugnant spell, Daily we take one further step toward Hell, Suffering no horror in the olid shade.As an impoverished rake will kiss and bite The bruised blue nipples of an ancient whore, We steal clandestine pleasures by the score, Which, l
46、ike dried orange rinds, we pressure tight.Serried, aswarm, like million maggots, soDemons carouse in us with fetid breath, And, when we breathe, the unseen stream of death Flows down our lungs with muffled wads of woe.If poison, knife, rape, arson, have not dared Yet stamp the pleasing pattern of th
47、eir gyves On the dull canvas of our sorry lives, It is because our torpid souls are scared.But side by side with our monstrosities Jackals and bitch hounds, scorpions, vultures, apes,Panthers and serpents whose repulsive shapesPollute our vices dank menageries,There is one viler and more wicked spaw
48、n, Which never makes great gestures or loud cries Yet would turn earth to wastes of sumps and sties And swallow all creation in a yawn:Ennui! Moist-eyed perforce, worse than all other, Dreaming of stakes, he smokes his hookah pipe.Reader, you know this fiend, refined and ripe, Reader, O hypocrite my like! my brother! Jacques LeClercq, Flowers of Evil (Mt Vernon, NY: Peter Pauper Press, 1958)To the ReaderInfatuation, sadism, lust, avaricepossess our souls and drain the bodys forc
