Baudelaire: “The Balcony”
(25 Translations)
Addressed to Baudelaire’s mistress Jeanne Duval, this is one of the most beautiful poems of one of the world’s greatest poets. The original French poem is followed by several different English translations. I have put the three relatively literal prose translations first because I want to encourage you to try reading the original, even if you know little or no French. The verse renderings all have significant and in many cases ludicrous flaws. Often they distort the meaning or even fabricate some totally different meaning (usually in order to come up with a rhyme); but even when they stay fairly close to the original sense there are invariably passages that strike a false note, words or phrases that just don’t have the right tone or rhythm. At best, some of the English versions sometimes give a hint of the original. More often they merely serve as object lessons in the difficulties of translation.
The original French:
Le BalconMère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses,
Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs! ô toi, tous mes devoirs!
Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses,
La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs,
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses!Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon,
Et les soirs au balcon, voilés de vapeurs roses.
Que ton sein m’était doux! que ton coeur m’était bon!
Nous avons dit souvent d’impérissables choses
Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon.Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées!
Que l’espace est profond! que le coeur est puissant!
En me penchant vers toi, reine des adorées,
Je croyais respirer le parfum de ton sang.
Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées!La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’une cloison,
Et mes yeux dans le noir devinaient tes prunelles,
Et je buvais ton souffle, ô douceur! ô poison!
Et tes pieds s’endormaient dans mes mains fraternelles.
La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’une cloison.Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses,
Et revis mon passé blotti dans tes genoux.
Car à quoi bon chercher tes beautés langoureuses
Ailleurs qu’en ton cher corps et qu’en ton coeur si doux?
Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses!Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baisers infinis,
Renaîtront-ils d’un gouffre interdit à nos sondes,
Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis
Après s’être lavés au fond des mers profondes?
— Ô serments! ô parfums! ô baisers infinis!—Charles Baudelaire, ca. 1856
The BalconyMother of memories, mistress of mistresses, O you, all my pleasures! O you, all my duties! You will remember the beauty of caresses, the sweetness of the hearth and the charm of the evenings. Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.
The evenings aglow with the heat of the coals, and the evenings on the balcony, veiled with rose mist; how soft your breast was to me! how kind your heart! We often said imperishable things on evenings aglow with the heat of the coals.
How beautiful the sun is on warm evenings! How deep space is! How powerful is the heart! Bending over you, queen of adored ones, I thought I breathed the perfume of your blood. How beautiful the sun is on warm evenings!
Night deepened like a wall, and my eyes in the darkness sensed your eyes, and I drank your breath, O sweetness! O poison! And your feet slumbered in my brotherly hands. Night deepened like a wall.
I know the art of evoking happy moments, and live again my past curled up in your lap. For what is the good of seeking your languorous beauty elsewhere than in your dear body and in your so gentle heart? I know the art of evoking happy moments.
Those vows, those perfumes, those infinite kisses, will they be born again from a gulf we may not sound as rejuvenated suns rise up to heaven after being bathed in the depth of deep seas? — O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!
Prose translation by Elaine Marks (1962)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, you who are all my pleasures, you who are all my duties; you will remember the beauty of caresses, the bliss of home, the charm of evenings, mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.Evenings illuminated by the glowing coal, evenings on the balcony, veiled with rosy mists, how gentle I found your breast, how kind your heart was to me: we often said things that will never perish, on those evenings illuminated by the glowing coal.
How beautiful are the suns of sultry evenings; how space grows deep; how the heart compels! As I leaned toward you, my beloved queen, I seemed to breathe the bouquet of your blood. How beautiful are the suns of sultry evenings!
The night was thickening round us like a wall, and in the dark my eyes were divining yours, and I drank the nectar, the poison of your breath, and your feet fell asleep in my fraternal hands, while the night was thickening round us like a wall.
I know the art of evoking happy moments, and live my past again as I nestle at your knees; for what would it avail to seek your drowsy beauties save in your beloved body and so tender heart? I know the art of evoking happy moments.
Those vows, those perfumes and infinite kisses — will they ever relive in a fathomless underworld, like suns reborn returning to the sky, after their cleansing in the depths of seas? O vows, O perfumes, O infinite kisses!
Prose translation by Francis Scarfe (1961)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, you who are my every pleasure, you who are my every obligation — you will remember the beauty of caresses, the bliss of home and fireside and the charm of evenings, mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.
In those evenings lit by the glowing coal, evenings on the balcony, veiled with rosy mists, how gentle I found your breast, how kind your heart was to me: we often said things that will never perish, on those evenings lit by the glowing coals.
How lovely are the suns of sultry evenings; how space grows deep; how the heart compels! As I leaned toward you, my beloved queen, I seemed to breathe the bouquet of your blood. How lovely are the suns of sultry evenings!
The night came thickening round us like a wall, my eyes sought and found your pupils in the dark, and I drank deep of the sweetness and poison of your breath, and your feet went to sleep in my fraternal hands, as the night came thickening round us like a wall.
I know the art of evoking happy moments, and live my past again nestled at your knees; for what should it avail to seek your drowsy beauties save in your dear body and so tender heart? I know the art of evoking happy moments.
Those vows, those perfumes, infinity of kisses — will they ever live once more in a fathomless underworld, like suns reborn returning to the sky after their cleansing in the deepnesses of seas? O vows, O perfume, O infinite kisses.
Second prose translation by Francis Scarfe (1986)
Mother of memories, mother of mistresses,
O thou, in whom my pleasure bites and smites! —
Thou givest me the beauty of divine caresses,
The heart’s fire at the midnight of the nights,
Mother of memories, mother of mistresses!The nights ignited by the fire’s fierce fashions,
The shadows of the unveiled Invisible,
How sweet thy breast, thy heart and all its passions!
We have often said strange things imperishable,
On the nights ignited by the fire’s fierce fashions.Scents and heats of Hell’s Hallucinations!
Space, and the heart’s beating and our changing mood,
Thou canst give me, O queen of my Adorations,
The very perfume of thy most precious blood.
Scents and heats of Hell’s Hallucinations!Night and the absolute horror of a Vision,
Mine eyes on thine in the dark one’s sense depresses,
When I drank thy blood, thy breath, poison, derision!
When thy feet slept, when slept thy dishevelled tresses!
Night and the absolute horror of a Vision.I know the art of evoking invocation,
And I have dreamed deep hidden between thy knees
Of languorous beauties, of thy fascination,
Thy body’s beauty, the savage wind-swept Seas!
I know the art of evoking invocation!These oaths, these perfumes, these kisses, mad, ferocious,
Shall these arise from a great gulf interdicted?
Some deep abyss, sombre, sunless, atrocious,
The depths of the illimitable seas by our Sins predicted?
— O oaths! O perfume! O kisses, mad, ferocious!Translated by Arthur Symons (ca. 1900-1920)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O thou, my pleasure, thou, all my desire,
Thou shalt recall the beauty of caresses,
The charm of evenings by the gentle fire,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!The eves illumined by the burning coal,
The balcony where veiled rose-vapour clings —
How soft your breast was then, how sweet your soul!
Ah, and we said imperishable things,
Those eves illumined by the burning coal.Lovely the suns were in those twilights warm,
And space profound, and strong life’s pulsing flood;
In bending o’er you, queen of every charm,
I thought I breathed the perfume of your blood.
The suns were beauteous in those twilights warm.The film of night flowed round and over us,
And my eyes in the dark did your eyes meet;
I drank your breath, ah! sweet and poisonous,
And in my hands fraternal slept your feet —
Night, like a film, flowed round and over us.I can recall those happy days forgot,
And see, with head bowed on your knees, my past.
Your languid beauties now would move me not
Did not your gentle heart and body cast
The old spell of those happy days forgot.Can vows and perfume, kisses infinite,
Be reborn from the gulf we cannot sound;
As rise to heaven suns once again made bright
After being plunged in deep seas and profound?
Ah, vows and perfumes, kisses infinite!Translated by Frank Pearce Sturm (1906)
Oh, Mother of Memories! Mistress of Mistresses!
Oh, thou all my pleasures, oh, thou all my prayers!
Can’st thou remember those luscious caresses,
The charm of the hearth and the sweet evening airs?
Oh, Mother of Memories, Mistress of Mistresses!Those evenings illumed by the glow of the coal,
And those roseate nights with their vaporous wings,
How calm was thy breast and how good was thy soul,
’Twas then we uttered imperishable things,
Those evenings illumed by the glow of the coal.How lovely the suns on those hot, autumn nights!
How vast were the heavens! and the heart how hale!
As I leaned towards you — oh, my Queen of Delights,
The scent of thy blood I seemed to inhale.
How lovely the sun on those hot, autumn nights!The shadows of night-time grew dense like a pall,
And deep through the darkness thine eyes I divined,
And I drank of thy breath — oh sweetness, oh gall,
And thy feet in my brotherly hands reclined,
The shadows of Night-time grew dense like a pall.I know how to call forth those moments so dear,
And to live my Past — laid on thy knees — once more,
For where should I seek for thy beauties but here
In thy langorous heart and thy body so pure?
I know how to call forth those moments so dear.Those perfumes, those infinite kisses and sighs,
Are they born in some gulf to our plummets denied?
Like rejuvenate suns that mount up to the skies,
That first have been cleansed in the depths of the tide;
Oh, perfumes! oh, infinite kisses and sighs!Translated by Cyril Scott (1909)
mother of memories, mistress of mistresses
— thou, all my pleasure, thou, my fealties all!
thou shalt recall each kiss how soft it is,
how warm our hearth, the night how magical,
mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!long hours illumined by the glowing fire
long balcony-hours veiled with misty rose;
soft pillowing breast! heart warm to my desire!
and all the imperishable things we whispered, those
long hours illumined by the glowing firehow softly shone the golden, shimmering sun!
how deep the skyey space! how rich love’s power!
for bending toward thee, most belovèd one,
I seemed to breathe thy pulses like a flower.
how softly shone the golden, shimmering sun!Night with her thickening wall imprisoned us,
eyes groped for widening eyes the black withheld,
I drank thy breath, o sweet, o poisonous!
thy feet slept in my hands fraternal held;
Night with her thickening wall imprisoned us.my magic art evoked a rapture perished,
for in thy clasp I saw my youth afresh,
could others yield the languorous charm I cherished,
thy gentle heart, thy dear and lovely flesh?
my magic art evoked a rapture perished!but — vows and fragrance, infinite desire —
shall they arise from gulfs too deep to plumb,
as morn by morn new suns of rosier fire
mount, laved in some dark sea Elysium?
o vows! o fragrance! infinite desire!Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks (1931)
Inspirer of my youth, mistress beyond compare,
You who were all my pleasures, all my hopes and dreams!
Do you recall our cheerful room — our evenings there,
Quiet and passionate? Like yesterday, it seems,
Inspirer of my youth, mistress beyond compare!The evenings lighted by the hushed flame of the coal,
The warm rose-misted twilights in the early springs,
The balcony! How I adored you, body and soul!
And, darling, we have said imperishable things
The evenings lighted by the hushed flame of the coal.How splendid were the long slow summer sunsets, too!
How large the world appeared to us! How strong and good
Life ran then in our veins! When I leaned close to you
I thought that I could breathe the perfume of your blood.
How splendid were the long slow summer sunsets, too!The night would close around us like a dim blue wall,
And your eyes flashed within the darkness, and the sweet
Drug of your breath came over me. Do you recall
How I would love to lie for hours holding your feet?
The night would close around us like a dim blue wall.I can relive the ecstasy that Time has slain;
At moments I can feel myself between your thighs.
What use to hope for anything like that again
With someone else? What use to seek in any wise?
I can relive the ecstasy that Time has slain.Those cries, those long embraces, that remembered scent:
Can they be lost for ever? Will they not come round
Like stars, like suns, to blaze upon the firmament
Of future worlds, from the abyss we cannot sound?
— O cries! O long embraces! O remembered scent!Translated by George Dillon (1936)
Mother of memories, queen of paramours,
Yourself are all my pleasure, all my duty;
You will recall caresses that were yours
And fireside evenings in their warmth and beauty.
Mother of memories, queen of paramours.On eves illumined by the light of coal,
The balcony beneath a rose-veiled sky,
Your breast how soft! Your heart how good and whole!
We spoke eternal things that cannot die —
On eves illumined by the light of coal!How splendid sets the sun of a warm evening!
How deep is space! the heart how full of power!
When, queen of the adored, towards you leaning,
I breathed the perfume of your blood in flower.
How splendid sets the sun of a warm evening!The evening like an alcove seemed to thicken,
And as my eyes astrologised your own,
Drinking your breath, I felt sweet poisons quicken,
And in my hands your feet slept still as stone.
The evening like an alcove seemed to thicken.I know how to resuscitate dead minutes.
I see my past, its face hid in your knees.
How can I seek your languorous charm save in its
Own source, your heart and body formed to please.
I know how to resuscitate dead minutes.These vows, these perfumes, and these countless kisses,
Reborn from gulfs that we could never sound,
Will they, like suns, once bathed in those abysses,
Rejuvenated from the deep, rebound —
These vows, these perfumes, and these countless kisses?Translated by Roy Campbell (1952)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O you, all my pleasure, O you, all my duty!
You’ll remember the sweetness of our caresses,
The peace of the fireside, the charm of the evenings.
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!The evenings lighted by the glow of the coals,
The evenings on the balcony, veiled with rose mist;
How soft your breast was to me! how kind was your heart!
We often said imperishable things,
The evenings lighted by the glow of the coals.How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings!
How deep space is! how potent is the heart!
In bending over you, queen of adored women,
I thought I breathed the perfume in your blood.
How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings!The night was growing dense like an encircling wall,
My eyes in the darkness felt the fire of your gaze
And I drank in your breath, O sweetness, O poison!
And your feet nestled soft in my brotherly hands.
The night was growing dense like an encircling wall.I know the art of evoking happy moments,
And live again our past, my head laid on your knees,
For what’s the good of seeking your languid beauty
Elsewhere than in your dear body and gentle heart?
I know the art of evoking happy moments.Those vows, those perfumes, those infinite kisses,
Will they be reborn from a gulf we may not sound,
As rejuvenated suns rise in the heavens
After being bathed in the depths of deep seas?
— O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!Translated by William Aggeler (1954)
Mistress of mistresses, mother of memories,
O you my every pleasure, you my every duty!
You shall recall our blandishments and ecstasies,
The warm peace of our hearth, the evening’s placid beauty.
Mistress of mistresses, mother of memories!Evenings illumined by the glow of coals afire
Or on the balcony, veiled in a rosy mist.
How soft your breast, how kind your heart to my desire!
We said imperishable things the while we kissed,
Evenings illumined by the glow of coals afire.How glorious the sunset on warm summer nights!
How deep space is! the human heart how competent!
As I bent over you, queen of my soul’s delight,
I thought I breathed your blood with its suave acrid scent.
How glorious the sunset on warm summer nights!The night grew dense, forming a wall to compass us,
Across the dark your eyes bound mine with golden bands,
I drank your breath in deep, O sweet, O poisonous!
Your slender feet slept softly in my gentle hands.
The night grew dense, forming a wall to compass us.The resurrection of glad moments is an art
I know: I live anew, my head pressed to your knees,
For where, if not in your loved flesh and tender heart,
Can I seek out the wonder of your languidness?
The resurrection of glad moments is an art.These vows, these fragrant scents, these kisses without end,
Shall they be born again out of infinity?
As suns rejuvenated in the skies ascend,
Having been laved in the unfathomable sea?
— O vows! O fragrant scents! — O kisses without end!Translated by Jacques LeClercq (1958)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
You, all my pleasures! You, all my duties!
You will remember the beauty of caresses,
The sweetness of the hearth and the spell of evenings,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!Evenings lighted by the burning of the coals,
And evenings on the balcony, veiled with rosy vapors.
How soft your breast was for me! how kind your heart was!
We often said imperishable things
On evenings lighted by the burning of the coals.How beautiful the sun is in the warm evening!
How deep is space! How powerful is the heart!
As I bent over you, queen of worshiped women,
I believed I could smell the perfume of your blood.
How beautiful the sun is in the warm evening!Night thickened as if it were a partition,
And my eyes in the dark could hardly see your eyeballs,
And I drank your breath, O sweetness, O poison!
And your feet went to sleep in my fraternal hands.
Night thickened as if it were a partition.I know the art of evoking minutes of happiness,
And I saw again my past hidden in your knees.
Why look for your languorous beauty
Elsewhere than in your dear body and in your gentle heart?
I know the art of evoking minutes of happiness.Will these vows, perfumes and infinite kisses
Be born again from an abyss forbidden to our soundings,
As rejuvenated suns climb in the heavens
After being washed at the bottom of deep seas?
— O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!Translated by Wallace Fowlie (1963)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O You, the whole of my devotions and desires!
Recall to me the beauty of each soft caress,
The charm of evenings before the warm hearth-fires,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!
On evenings by the ardor of the hearth illumned
How tender seemed your breast, how warm your loving heart!
And often, on that balcony rose-mists perfumed,
We’d speak of things that cannot perish or depart —
Those evenings by the ardor of the hearth illumned.
How splendid were the sunsets on those summer nights —
How flamed our hearts beneath the deep and darkening sky!
And leaning to your lips, O Queen of all delights,
I thought your very blood’s perfume was on your sigh.
How splendid were the sunsets on those summer nights!
While the night arched its darkness like a canopy
My raptured eye in yours would plumb its mirrored deep,
And I would breathe your breath — sweet drug of ecstasy! —
In my fraternal hands your cradled feet would sleep
While the night arched its darkness like a canopy.
I know what spells evoke each moment’s happiness,
And I relive my past nestled upon your knees.
Where would I find but in your dear form’s shapeliness
And in your lovely heart, such languorous ecstasies?
I know what spells evoke each moment’s happiness.
These promises, perfumes, and kisses infinite —
Will they return one day, like reborn suns arise,
Laved by deep seas in hell’s forbidden pit,
To give their warm rekindled glory to our skies?
— O promises, perfumes, and kisses infinite!Translated by Richard L. Tierney (1981)
Mother of memories, absolute mistress,
in you my pleasure is my only task:
not to forget the form of a caress,
the dying fire and the alluring dark —
mother of memories, absolute mistress!Evenings illustrated by living coals
and evenings on the balcony, pink mist
rising, your soft breast, your gentle heart,
while we rehearsed the imperishable words —
evenings illustrated by living coals.How brilliant the sunsets, how warm the air,
how huge the sky: the size of our own souls.
Holding you, most loved — no, revered!
I could almost smell the fragrance of your blood —
how brilliant the sunsets, how warm the air!The night solidified into a wall,
and my eyes had to guess where yours would be
as I drank in your breath: nectar! venom!
and your feet lay still in my harmless hands:
the night solidified into a wall.I know the art of conjuring up delight,
and I relive my past buried in your lap;
for beauty languorous as yours recurs
only in your loved body, your loving heart;
I know the art of conjuring up delight.Those endless kisses, promises, perfumes:
is it forbidden to have them back again
out of the dark, like the sun rising new
out of its purgation in the sea?
O endless kisses, promises, perfumes!Translated by Richard Howard (1982)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
You, my every pleasure! You, my every duty!
Now you shall recollect the joy of our caresses,
The sweetness of the hearth and every evening’s beauty,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!Those evenings lighted by the lustrous coal-fire’s heat,
And evenings on the balcony in rose-mist weather,
How kind to me your breast was! and your heart, how sweet!
How often we have said those things that last forever
On evenings lighted by the lustrous coal-fire’s heat.How lovely in the warmth of evening is the sun!
How vast is space! The heart, how mighty! and how proud!
And bending over you, my queen, my worshipped one,
I think that I inhale the perfume of your blood.
How lovely in the warmth of evening is the sun!The night was overcast, its blackness like a wall,
And in the dark my eyes could only guess your glance;
I drank your breath: O muscadine! O veronal!
You little feet were sleeping in my friendly hands.
The night was overcast, its darkness like a wall.I can evoke the moments of our happiness,
To live my past again, spent snuggled in your thighs.
Where must one seek the languor of your loveliness
If not within your body where your warm heart lies?
I can evoke the moments of our happiness.Those pledges, those perfumes, those kisses without end,
Will they arise again from depths we cannot fathom,
As in the sky we see the sun, renewed, ascend
From cleansing at the bottom of the ocean’s chasm?
— Oh pledges! oh perfumes! oh kisses without end!Translated by William H. Crosby (1991)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O thou of all my pleasures, all my debts of love!
Call to your mind the gentle touch of our caress,
The sweetness of the hearth, the charming sky above,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!
Evenings illumined by the ardour of the coal,
And on the balcony, the pink that vapours bring;
How sweet your bosom to me, and how kind your soul!
We often told ourselves imperishable things,
Evenings illumined by the ardour of the coal.
How beautiful the sun! How warm the evening beams!
How endless is the space! The heart, how strong and good!
On bending towards you, o beloved, o my queen,
I thought that I could breathe the perfume of your blood.
How beautiful the suns! How warm their evening beams!
Then we would be enclosed within the thickening night,
And in the dark my eyes divined your eyes so deep,
And would drink your breath, o poison, o delight!
In my fraternal hands, your feet would go to sleep,
When we would be enclosed within the thickening night.
I have the art of calling forth the happy times,
Seeing again my past there curled within your knees,
Where should I look for beauty, languorous and sublime,
If not in your dear heart, and body at its ease?
I have the art of calling forth the happy times!
These vows, these sweet perfumes, these kisses infinite,
Will they be reborn from a gulf we cannot sound,
As suns rejuvenated take celestial flight
Having been bathed in oceans, mighty and profound?
— O vows! O sweet perfumes! O kisses infinite!Translated by James McGowan (1993)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
From you, all my pleasures! For you, my respects!
You’ll remember the beauty of caresses,
Then softness by the fireside, the charm of evening’s beck,
— Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.
The ardor of coal illumined the night,
And those nights on the balcony, veiled in vaporous pinks
When your breast was so quiet, your heart was so right!
How often we’d talk of imperishable things.
The ardor of coal illumined the night.
When the suns were handsome and the evenings warm,
When space was deep, and the heart strong and good,
When I leaned toward you, O queen I adored,
I believe I smelled the perfume of your blood
When the suns were handsome and the evenings warm.
The night became thick, partitioned from us,
My eyes guessed for yours as the light grew wan,
And I drank your breath—so sweet! so poisonous!
And your feet went to sleep in my fraternal hands
The night became thick, partitioned from us.
I know the art of arousing moments of happiness,
And reliving a past spent curled up at your knee.
But what good is looking for your lovely listlessness
Anywhere but your precious body and your heart so sweet?
I know the art of arousing moments of happiness.
These promises, these perfumes, these kisses of infinity,
Are we reborn in a chasm that forbids our sounding pries,
As after being washed at the bottom of the deepest seas,
The sun was rejuvenated in the skies?
O promises, O perfumes, O kisses of infinity.Translated by William A. Sigler (1996)
Mother of memories, mistress divine,
My every allegiance, every desire!
Your bountiful young tenderness, all mine,
Intoxicating nights beside the fire —
Mother of memories, mistress divine!The peaceful evenings, the glowing coals,
And sunsets from the balcony above —
How eager were your breasts, how close our souls!
Imperishable words, undying love,
And peaceful evenings by glowing coals.How beautiful the setting sun, serene —
How strong the heart of heaven’s pulsing flood!
I bent in adoration of my queen,
And smothered in the odour of your blood.
How beautiful the sun, and how serene!The night came down around you like a veil.
My eyes found yours, your eyes were mine to keep.
Your breath was like a nectar, sweet as hell!
Your feet in my safekeeping fell asleep.
The night came down around you like a veil.I know the art of summoning delight,
Ecstatic hours nestled at your knees —
How could I reconstruct those lovely nights
Without your heart, your body’s mysteries?
I know the art of conjuring delight!Endless caress of love that never dies,
That ought to last forever and a day —
As suns renewed by darkness mount the skies,
Could we not be reborn, and borne away?
— Unending love! Sweet love that never dies!Translated by Walter Martin (1997)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
Oh you, all of my pleasures! oh you, all of my duties!
You will remember the beauty of our caresses,
The sweetness of the hearth and the charm of the evenings,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!
Evenings illuminated by the heat of a coal fire,
And the evenings on the balcony, veiled in rosy vapors.
How sweet your breast was to me! how good your heart was to me!
We often said things that will never perish on
Evenings illuminated by the heat of a coal fire.
How beautiful the sun is on hot evenings!
How profound space is! how powerful is the heart!
Leaning toward you, oh queen of adored women,
I believed I was breathing the perfume of your blood.
How beautiful the sun is on hot evenings!
The night thickened and fell like a partition,
And in the blackness my eyes could make out your pupils,
And I drank your breath, oh sweetness! oh poison!
And your feet fell asleep in my brotherly hands.
The night thickened and fell like a partition.
I know the art of evoking happy moments,
And I reviewed my past curled up upon your knees.
For what good would it do to search for your languid beauties
Elsewhere than in your dear body and in your heart so sweet?
I know the art of evoking happy moments!
These vows, these perfumes, these infinite kisses,
Will they be reborn from an abyss we cannot sound,
Just as rejuvenated suns rise to heaven
After having been washed in the depths of deep seas?
— Oh vows! oh perfumes! oh infinite kisses!Translated by Cat Nilan (1999)
Mother of memories, mistress of pleasure,
Evening embraces, the enfolding of leisure,
Coals burning bright in the darkening sky,
Rose-misted balconies, silk of your thigh
And words that survive, in a space beyond measure.The weight of your breasts is your heart’s subtle pressure,
Your breath has more venom when its savour is fresher,
The smell of your blood is as black as the sky,
Smothering memories.The dark makes me guess at the site of the treasure,
As I curl up again in the lap of your pleasure.
Why look elsewhere for the pearl that’s close by?
Vows, perfumes and kisses, wherever they lie,
May well be submerged at depths we can’t measure,
Salvaging memories.“Transformation” into a rondeau by Clive Scott (Translating Baudelaire, 2000)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
you who are all my pleasures and all my duties,
you will remember the beauty of our caresses,
the sweetness of the hearth, the charm of the evenings,
mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.On evenings lit by the glowing coal-fire
and evenings on the balcony, veiled with pink mist,
how soft your breast was,
how kind to me was your heart!
Often we said imperishable things
on evenings lit by the glowing coal-fire.How beautiful the sun is on warm evenings!
How deep is space! How powerful the human heart!
As I leant over you, oh queen of all adored ones,
I thought I was breathing the fragrance of your blood.
How beautiful the sun is on warm evenings!The night would thicken like a wall around us,
and in the dark my eyes would make out yours,
and I would drink your breath, oh sweetness, oh poison!
And your feet would fall asleep in my brotherly hands.
The night would thicken like a wall around us.I know how to evoke the moments of happiness,
I relive my past, nestling my head on your lap.
For why would I seek your languid beauties anywhere
except in your dear body and your oh-so-gentle heart?
I know how to evoke the moments of happiness!Will those sweet words, those perfumes, those infinite kisses
be reborn from a chasm deeper than we may fathom
like suns that rise rejuvenated into the sky
after cleansing themselves in the oceans’ depths?
Oh sweet words, oh perfumes, oh infinite kisses!Translated by Peter Low (2001)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses
All of my pleasures and all of my cares!
You will recall the beauty of caresses,
The sweetness of the hearth and the charm of the evening
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.Those evenings lit by the glow of the coals,
Those evenings on the balcony veiled in pink mists.
How sweet your breast! How kind was your heart!
How often we said things we will never forget,
Those evenings lit by the glow of the coals.How beautiful the sun on those warm summer evenings!
How vast then is space! How powerful the heart!
In leaning toward you, queen of the adored,
I felt I was breathing the scent of your blood.
How beautiful the sun on those warm summer evenings!The nights would grow as thick as the partition wall
And my eyes in the dark would seek out your eyes,
And I drank in your breath, o sweetness, o poison!
And your feet fell asleep in my brotherly hands.
The nights would grow as thick as the partition wall.I know how to call up the moments of joy,
See my past once again nestled in your knees.
Where should one look for your languorous beauty
If not in your dear body and in your sweet heart?
I know how to call up the moments of joy.Those vows, those perfumes, those infinite kisses,
Will they rise yet again from a gulf none may measure?
As the rejuvenated sun rises again to the heavens
After being washed in the depths of the deep seas?
— O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!Translated by Rosemary Lloyd (2002)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses,
O you, all my pleasures! O you, all my learning!
You will remember the joy of caresses,
the sweetness of home and the beauty of evening,
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!
On evenings lit by the glow of the ashes
and on the balcony, veiled, rose-coloured, misted,
how gentle your breast was, how good your heart to me!
We have said things meant for eternity,
on evenings lit by the glow of the ashes.
How lovely the light is on sultry evenings!
How deep the void grows! How powerful the heart is!
As I leaned towards you, queen of adored ones
I thought I breathed perfume from your blood’s kiss.
How lovely the light is on sultry evenings!
The night it was thickening and closing around us,
and my eyes in the dark were divining your glance,
and I drank your nectar. Oh sweetness! Oh poison!
your feet held, here, in these fraternal hands.
The night it was thickening and closing around us.
I know how to summon up happiest moments,
and relive my past, there, curled, touching your knees.
What good to search for your languorous beauties
but in your dear body, and your heart so sweet?
I know how to summon up happiest moments!
Those vows, those perfumes, those infinite kisses,
will they be reborn, from gulfs beyond soundings,
as the suns that are young again climb in the sky,
after they’ve passed through the deepest of drownings?
— O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!Translated by A.S. Kline (2004)
Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, all my pleasures you! all my duties you! you bring to mind the beauty of caresses, sweetness of the hearth, the charm of evening, mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!evenings lit by burning charcoal, and evenings on the balcony, veiled by rose vapors. How sweet your breast to me, your heart so fine! We often said imperishable things, those evenings lit by burning charcoal.
How beautiful, suns on warm evenings! how deep, space! how strong the heart! Bending toward you, queen among loves, I thought to breathe in the perfume of your blood. How beautiful suns on warm evenings!
Night grew thick as a wall, my eyes in the dark divined your eyes and I drank in your breath, how sweet! how poisonous! and your feet slumbered in my brotherly hands. Night grew thick as a wall.
Mine is the art of conjuring happy moments. I see my past crouching in your knees. What good to seek your languorous beauty, other than in your dear body and in your tender heart? Mine is the art of conjuring happy moments.
Those solemn promises, those perfumes, those infinite kisses, can they be reborn from an abyss we are forbidden to sound, as suns rejuvenated ascend the sky after bathing in the depths of profound seas? — O solemn promises! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!
Translated by Keith Waldrop (2006)
Memory motherlode, mistress of all mistresses,
O you sum-it-up of pleasure, o you sum-it-up of hard work!
Stand in the mind for the beauty of all caresses,
The soft pile hearth, the je ne etc quoi of eve
-nings, memory motherlode, mistresses’ mistress!Evenings bathed in crackling firelight
And evenings on the balcony, everywhere pink fog.
You and your soft bosom, tender heart!
You and I speak together in the undying ways,
Evenings bathed in crackling firelight.The sunset of those evenings’ beautiful warmth!
Their spaced-out depth! Their muscly heart!
Tending towards you, Queen I adored,
In my deep breaths I felt I scented your blood,
The sunset of those evenings’ beautiful warmth!The night suddenly solid as a courtyard,
And my eyes in the dark on a quest for yours,
And I’m inhaling you, o softness, o poison.
Your feet slumbering in my brotherly hand,
The night suddenly solid as a courtyard.It’s the cushy number to evoke the happy hour,
And go back to a past sat on your lap.
Yet is it tenderness to be on the hunt for beauty
And not lead myself to you, your body and soft heart?
It’s the cushy number to evoke the happy hour.Shall our commitments, our scents, our endless kisses,
Be reborn from old wells we’re forbidden to plumb,
As a newly teenage sun clambering into the sky
Having come washed from the deepest horizon’s ocean?
O commitments, O scents. O endless kisses.Translated by Ira Lightman (2007)
25 translations of Charles Baudelaire’s poem “Le Balcon” (The Balcony).
[Rexroth’s Classics Revisited essay on Baudelaire]
[Another Rexroth essay on Baudelaire]