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Wine can conceal a sordid room In rich, miraculous disguise,..
🕑 Added 2020-10-25 05:01:13 +0000 UTC Wine can conceal a sordid room In rich, miraculous disguise, And make such porticoes arise Out of its flushed and crimson fume As makes the sunset in the skies. Opium the infinite enlarges, And lengthens all that is past measure. It deepens time, and digs its treasure, With sad, black raptures it o'ercharges The soul, and surfeits it with pleasure. Neither are worth the drug so strong That you distil from your green eyes, Lakes where I see my soul capsize Head downwards: and where, in one throng, I slake my dreams, and quench my sighs. But to your spittle these seem naught — It stings and burns. It steeps my thought And spirit in oblivious gloom, And, in its dizzy onrush caught, Dashes it on the shores of doom. — Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (transition from original French text)
