La Muse Malade (the Sick Muse) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB ABAB CCB BBB B CBBA DBEA FBB BBC G B CACA CBCB HHI JJI K C LAGA MAGA FFC CAA B C NBANABBN CCC BBA GMa pauvre muse h las qu'as tu donc ce matin | A |
Tes yeux creux sont peupl s de visions nocturnes | B |
Et je vois tour tour r fl chis sur ton teint | C |
La folie et l'horreur froides et taciturnes | B |
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Le succube verd tre et le rose lutin | A |
T'ont ils vers la peur et l'amour de leurs urnes | B |
Le cauchemar d'un poing despotique et mutin | A |
T'a t il noy e au fond d'un fabuleux Minturnes | B |
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Je voudrais qu'exhalant l'odeur de la sant | C |
Ton sein de pensers forts f t toujours fr quent | C |
Et que ton sang chr tien coul t flots rythmiques | B |
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Comme les sons nombreux des syllabes antiques | B |
O r gnent tour tour le p re des chansons | B |
Phoebus et le grand Pan le seigneur des moissons | B |
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The Sick Muse | B |
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My poor Muse alas what ails you today | C |
Your hollow eyes are full of nocturnal visions | B |
I see in turn reflected on your face | B |
Horror and madness cold and taciturn | A |
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Have the green succubus the rosy elf | D |
Poured out for you love and fear from their urns | B |
Has the hand of Nightmare cruel and despotic | E |
Plunged you to the bottom of some weird Minturnae | A |
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I would that your bosom fragrant with health | F |
Were constantly the dwelling place of noble thoughts | B |
And that your Christian blood would flow in rhythmic waves | B |
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Like the measured sounds of ancient verse | B |
Over which reign in turn the father of all songs | B |
Phoebus and the great Pan lord of harvest | C |
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Translated by William Aggeler | G |
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The Sick Muse | B |
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Alas poor Muse what ails you so today | C |
Your hollow eyes with midnight visions burn | A |
And turn about in your complexion play | C |
Madness and horror cold and taciturn | A |
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Green succubus and rosy imp have they | C |
Poured you both fear and love into one glass | B |
Or with his tyrant fist the nightmare say | C |
Submerged you in some fabulous morass | B |
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I wish that breathing health your breast might nourish | H |
Ever robuster thoughts therein to flourish | H |
And that your Christian blood in rhythmic flow | I |
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With those old polysyllables would chime | J |
Where turn about reigned Phoebus sire of rhyme | J |
And Pan the lord of harvests long ago | I |
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Translated by Roy Campbell | K |
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La Muse malade | C |
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poor Muse alas what ails thee now for thy | L |
great hollow eyes with sights nocturnal burn | A |
and in they changing pallor I descry | G |
madness and frozen horror turn by turn | A |
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did rosy sprites or pale green succubi | M |
pour love or panic from their dream filled urn | A |
did the mad fist of despot nightmare try | G |
to drown thee where the fiends of hell sojourn | A |
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I would that thou wert always filled with health | F |
and manly thoughts undaunted that a wealth | F |
of Christian blood were thine which always flowed | C |
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in calm broad rhythms like a Grecian ode | C |
now echoing forth Apollo's golden strain | A |
and now great Pan the lord of ripening grain | A |
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Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks | B |
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The Sick Mused | C |
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My impoverished muse alas What have you for me this morning | N |
Your empty eyes are stocked with nocturnal visions | B |
In your cheek's cold and taciturn reflection | A |
I see insanity and horror forming | N |
The green succubus and the red urchin | A |
Have they poured you fear and love from their urns | B |
The nightmare of a mutinous fist that despotically turns | B |
Does it drown you at the bottom of a loch beyond searching | N |
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I wish that your breast exhaled the scent of sanity | C |
That your womb of thought was not a tomb more frequently | C |
And that your Christian blood flowed around a buoy that was rhythmical | C |
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Like the numberless sounds of antique syllables | B |
Where reigns in turn the father of songs | B |
Phoebus and the great Pan the harvest sovereign | A |
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Translated by William A Sigler | G |
Charles Baudelaire
(1)
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