Charles Baudelaire

(9 April 1821 – 31 August 1867 / Paris)

Charles Baudelaire Poems

121. Hymne À La Beauté (Hymn To Beauty) 3/31/2010
122. The Voyage 3/31/2010
123. Bohémiens En Voyage (Gypsies On The Road) 3/31/2010
124. Even When She Walks 3/31/2010
125. À Une Dame Créole (To A Creole Lady) 3/31/2010
126. Bertha’s Eyes 3/31/2010
127. Voyage To Cythera 1/20/2003
128. Le Gout Du Néant 1/1/2004
129. Beowulf 3/31/2010
130. The Bad Monk 1/13/2003
131. Overcast 1/1/2004
132. Une Charogne 1/13/2003
133. One O'Clock In The Morning 1/1/2004
134. My Earlier Life 1/13/2003
135. Ill-Starred 1/13/2003
136. Alchimie De La Douleur (The Alchemy Of Sorrow) 3/31/2010
137. L'Invitation Au Voyage 1/13/2003
138. Calm 3/31/2010
139. The Blessing 1/3/2003
140. The Balcony 1/21/2003
141. The Living Torch 1/3/2003
142. Travelling Bohemians 1/13/2003
143. Music 3/31/2010
144. Spleen 1/20/2003
145. The Sick Muse 1/13/2003
146. Spleen (Iv) 1/13/2003
147. The End Of The Day 1/3/2003
148. For Madame Sabatier 1/21/2003
149. The Enemy 1/13/2003
150. The Possessed 1/3/2003
151. De Profundis Clamavi 1/3/2003
152. The Fountain Of Blood 1/20/2003
153. Sorrows Of The Moon 1/3/2003
154. Elevation 1/13/2003
155. Evening Harmony 1/3/2003
156. Composure 1/3/2003
157. The Vampire 1/3/2003
158. Correspondences 1/3/2003
159. The Carcass 1/3/2003
160. Invitation To The Voyage 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Charles Baudelaire

Be Drunk

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything ...

Read the full of Be Drunk

The Albatross

Often to pass the time on board, the crew
will catch an albatross, one of those big birds
which nonchalently chaperone a ship
across the bitter fathoms of the sea.

Tied to the deck, this sovereign of space,
as if embarrassed by its clumsiness,
pitiably lets its great white wings
drag at its sides like a pair of unshipped oars.

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