Lesbos
by Charles Baudelaire
Mother of Roman games and Greek pleasures,
Lesbos, where kisses, languid or joyous,
Warm as the sun, cool as watermelons,
Are the ornament of nights and glorious days;
Mother of Roman games and Greek pleasures,
Lesbos, where kisses are like cascades
Which fall fearlessly into bottomless gulfs,
And hasten, sobbing and slipping by jerks,
Stormy and secretive, swarming and deep;
Lesbos, where kisses are like cascades!
Lesbos, where Phrynes attract one another,
Where a sigh never remained without an echo,
On a par with Paphos the stars admire you,
And Venus can rightfully be jealous of Sappho!
Lesbos, where Phrynes attract one another,
Lesbos, land of warm and languorous nights,
Which force, O sterile ardor, before their mirrors,
Girls with hollow eyes and amorous bodies
To caress the ripe fruits of their puberty;
Lesbos, land of warm and languorous nights,
Let the severe eyes of old Plato frown;
You exact your pardon from the excess of kisses,
Queen of the sweet empire, loving and noble land,
And of the always inexhaustible subtleties.
Let the severe eyes of old Plato frown.
You exact your pardon from the eternal pain,
Inflicted without respite on ambitious hearts,
Attracted far from us by the radiant smile
Vaguely perceived at the edge of other skies!
You exact your pardon from the eternal pain!
Lesbos, which of the gods will dare be your judge
And condemn your brow grown pale by your work,
If his golden scales have not weighed the deluge
Of tears which your weeping has poured into the sea?
Lesbos, which of the gods will dare be your judge?
What do the laws of the just and the unjust demand
of us?
Virgins with noble hearts, honor of the isles,
Your religion like others is solemn,
And love will laugh at Hell and Heaven!
What do the laws of the just and the unjust demand
of us?
For Lesbos has chosen me among all men of the earth
To sing the secret of its flowering virgins,
And as a child I was admitted to the dark mystery
Of frantic laughter mingled with somber tears;
For Lesbos has chosen me among all men of the earth.
From then on I have watched at the top of Leucate,
Like a sentinel with a piercing and accurate eye,
Who watches day and night for brig, tartan or frigate,
From then on I have watched at the top of Leucate,
To know whether the sea is indulgent and kind,
And in the sobs with which the rock resounds
One evening will bring back to Lesbos, which forgives,
The worshiped body of Sappho, who left,
To know whether the sea is indulgent and kind!
Of mannish Sappho, lover and poet
More beautiful than Venus in her sad pallor!
-- The blue eye is vanquished by the black eye spotted
By the dark circle traced by the suffering
Of mannish Sappho, lover and poet!
-- More beautiful than Venus rising over the world
And pouring forth the abundance of her calm
And the radiance of her blond youthfulness
Over the old Ocean delighted with his daughter;
More beautiful than Venus rising over the world!
-- Of Sappho who died on the day of her blasphemy,
When, insulting the rite and the designated worship,
She made her beautiful body the supreme prey
Of a brute whose pride punished the impiety
Of the one who died on the day of her blasphemy.
And it is since that time that Lesbos laments,
And, despite the honors which the world pays it,
Exalts every night with the cry of the torment
Which its deserted banks raise towards heaven!
And it is since that time that Lesbos laments!