THE FLASK | Poem by Charles Baudelaire
THE FLASK Poem................... by Charles Baudelaire
_______________________________________________________________________________________
THERE are some powerful odours that can pass
Out of the stoppard flagon; even glass
To them is porous.
Oft when some old box
Brought from the East is opened and the locks
And hinges creak and cry; or in a press
In some deserted house, where the sharp stress
Of odours old and dusty fills the brain;
An ancient flask is brought to light again,
And forth the ghosts of long-dead odours creep.
There, softly trembling in the shadows, sleep
A thousand thoughts, funereal chrysalides,
Phantoms of old the folding darkness hides,
Who make faint flutterings as their wings unfold,
Rose-washed and azure-tinted, shot with gold.
A memory that brings languor flutters here:
The fainting eyelids droop, and giddy Fear
Thrusts with both hands the soul towards the pit
Where, like a Lazarus from his winding-sheet,
Arises from the gulf of sleep a ghost
Of an old passion, long since loved and lost.
So I, when vanished from man's memory
Deep in some dark and sombre chest I lie,
An empty flagon they have cast aside,
Broken and soiled, the dust upon my pride,
Will be your shroud, beloved pestilence!
The witness of your might and virulence,
Sweet poison mixed by angels; bitter cup
Of life and death my heart has drunken up!
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Charles Baudelaire - Wikipedia
Charles Baudelaire - Poet | Academy of American Poets
Buy Charles Baudelaire
at Amazon
Buy Charles Baudelaire
at Barnes and Noble
_______________________________________________________________________________________
We hope you enjoyed the THE FLASK Poem by Charles Baudelaire
The last poem was THE EYES OF BEAUTY | Poem by Charles Baudelaire. The next poem is The Ghost | Poem by Charles Baudelaire
