Cupid And The Skull

by

Charles Baudelaire



An Old Lamp Base


Cupid is sitting on the skull

Of Humanity;

On this throne the impious one

With the shameless laugh


Is gaily blowing round bubbles

That rise up in the air

As if they wanted to rejoin the globes

At the ether's end.


The sphere, fragile and luminous,

Takes flight quickly,

Bursts and spits out its flimsy soul

Like a golden dream.


I hear the skull groan and say

At every bubble:

"When will this fierce, ludicrous game

Come to an end?


Because what your pitiless mouth

Scatters in the air,

Monstrous murderer is my brain,

My flesh and blood!"



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