To sublimate circumstance
and return him to his Id,
Baudelaire's assistants
satisfied his senses
by turning sky to sunsets
and hovels to hotels;
at least, wine did.
Opium
saturated his senses,
made boundless,
Time and Space;
and made him pay for these
with love in the darkest place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem