C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Music
By Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867)
S
Toward my pale star,
Whether the clouds be there or all the air be free
I sail afar.
With front outspread and swelling breasts,
On swifter sail
I bound through the steep waves’ foamy crests
Under night’s veil.
Vibrate within me I feel all the passions that lash
A bark in distress:
By the blast I am lulled—by the tempest’s wild crash
On the salt wilderness.
Then comes the dead calm—mirrored there
I behold my despair.