une passante
La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait.
Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse,
Une femme passa, d'une main fastueuse
Soulevant, balanant le feston et l'ourlet;
Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue.
Moi, je buvais, crisp comme un extravagant,
Dans son oeil, ciel livide o germe l'ouragan,
La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue.
Un clair... puis la nuit! Fugitive beaut
Dont le regard m'a fait soudainement renatre,
Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l'ternit?
Ailleurs, bien loin d'ici! trop tard! jamais peut-tre!
Car j'ignore o tu fuis, tu ne sais o je vais,
toi que j'eusse aime, toi qui le savais!
Charles Baudelaire
To a Passer-By
The street about me roared with a deafening sound.
Tall, slender, in heavy mourning, majestic grief,
A woman passed, with a glittering hand
Raising, swinging the hem and flounces of her skirt;
Agile and graceful, her leg was like a statue's.
Tense as in a delirium, I drank
From her eyes, pale sky where tempests germinate,
The sweetness that enthralls and the pleasure that kills.
A lightning flash... then night! Fleeting beauty
By whose glance I was suddenly reborn,
Will I see you no more before eternity?
Elsewhere, far, far from here! too late! never perhaps!
For I know not where you fled, you know not where I go,
O you whom I would have loved, O you who knew it!
William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA:
Academy Library Guild, 1954)
A Passer-by
The deafening street roared on. Full, slim, and grand
In mourning and majestic grief, passed down
A woman, lifting with a stately hand
And swaying the black borders of her gown;
Noble and swift, her leg with statues matching;
I drank, convulsed, out of her pensive eye,
A livid sky where hurricanes were hatching,
Sweetness that charms, and joy that makes one die.
A lighting-flash then darkness! Fleeting chance
Whose look was my rebirth a single glance!
Through endless time shall I not meet with you?
Far off! too late! or never! I not knowing
Who you may be, nor you where I am going
You, whom I might have loved, who know it too!
Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York:
Pantheon Books, 1952)
To a Passerby
Around me thundered the deafening noise of the
street,
In mourning apparel, portraying majestic distress,
With queenly ringers, just lifting the hem of her dress,
A stately woman passed by with hurrying feet.
Agile and noble, with limbs of perfect poise.
Ah, how I drank, thrilled through like a Being insane,
In her look, a dark sky, from whence springs forth the
hurricane,
There lay but the sweetness that charms, and the joy
that destroys.
A flash then the night... O loveliness fugitive!
Whose glance has so suddenly caused me again to live,
Shall I not see you again till this life is o'er!
Elsewhere, far away... too late, perhaps never more,
For I know not whither you fly, nor you, where I go,
O soul that I would have loved, and that you know!
Cyril Scott, Baudelaire: The Flowers of Evil (London:
Elkin Mathews, 1909)
To a Woman Passing By
The deafening road around me roared.
Tall, slim, in deep mourning, making majestic grief,
A woman passed, lifting and swinging
With a pompous gesture the ornamental hem of her
garment,
Swift and noble, with statuesque limb.
As for me, I drank, twitching like an old rou,
From her eye, livid sky where the hurricane is born,
The softness that fascinates and the pleasure that kills,
A gleam... then night! O fleeting beauty,
Your glance has given me sudden rebirth,
Shall I see you again only in eternity?
Somewhere else, very far from here! Too late! Perhaps
never!
For I do not know where you flee, nor you where I am
going,
O you whom I would have loved, O you who knew it!
Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles
Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)