The Eyes Of Beauty

 by Charles Baudelaire

The Eyes Of Beauty 

YOU are a sky of autumn, pale and rose; 

But all the sea of sadness in my blood 

Surges, and ebbing, leaves my lips morose, 

Salt with the memory of the bitter flood. 

In vain your hand glides my faint bosom o'er, 

That which you seek, beloved, is desecrate 

By woman's tooth and talon; ah, no more 

Seek in me for a heart which those dogs ate. 

It is a ruin where the jackals rest, 

And rend and tear and glut themselves and slay- 

A perfume swims about your naked breast! 

Beauty, hard scourge of spirits, have your way! 

With flame-like eyes that at bright feasts have flared 

Burn up these tatters that the beasts have spared! 

Il Aimait À La Voir 

It was in her white skirts that he loved to see

her run straight through the branches and leaves, gracefully,

but still gauche, and hiding her leg from the light,

when she tore her dress, on the briars, in her flight.