Out Of The Depths Have I Cried


Charles Baudelaire

I ask pity of Thee, the only one I love,

From the depths of the dark pit where my heart has fallen,

It's a gloomy world with a leaden horizon,

Where through the night swim horror and blasphemy;

A frigid sun floats overhead for six months,

And for the other six months darkness covers the land;

It's a land bleaker than the polar wastes

— Neither beasts, nor streams, nor verdure, nor woods!

But no horror in the world can surpass

The icy cruelty of that glacial sun

And this vast night which is like old Chaos;

I envy the lot of the lowest species of animals

Who are able to sink into a stupid sleep,

So slowly does the skein of time unwind!

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