Charles Beaudelaire (1821-1867)

EVENING HARMONY
by: Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)

 

he hour approacheth, when, as their stems incline,

The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,

And sounds and scents in the vesper breezes turn;

A melancholy waltz—and a drowsiness divine.




The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,

The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine.

A melancholy waltz—and a drowsiness divine,

The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern.




The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine;

Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,

The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern,

The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine.




Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,

Essay the wreaths of their faded Past to entwine,

The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine,

Thy thought within me glows like an incense urn.