Heauton Timoroumenos (self Tormentor) - текст песни
Heauton Timoroumenos (self Tormentor)
By Charles Baudelaire
No rage, no rancor: I shall beat you As butchers fell an ox, As Moses smote the rock in Horeb- I shall make you weep,
And by the waters of affliction My desert will be slaked. My desire, that hope has made monstrous, Will frolic in your tears
As a ship tosses on the ocean- In my besotted heart Your adorable sobs will echo Like an ecstatic drum.
For I - am I not a dissonance In the divine accord, Because of the greedy Irony Which infiltrates my soul?
I hear it in my voice - that shrillness, That poison in my blood! I am the sinister glass in which The Fury sees herself!
I am the knife and the wound it deals, I am the slap and the cheek, I am the wheel and the broken limbs, Hangman and victim both!
I am the vampire at my own veins, One of the great lost horde Doomed for the rest of my time, and beyond, 'to laugh - and smile no more'
(Taken from Les Fleurs du Mal, translated by Richard Howard)
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