Letter To Sainte-beuve Poem Rhyme Scheme

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On the old oak benches more shiny and polished	A
than links of a chain that were each day burnished	A
rubbed by our human flesh we still un bearded	B
trailed our ennui hunched round shouldered	C
under the four square heaven of solitude	D
where a child drinks study s tart ten year brew	E
It was in those days outstanding and memorable	F
when the teachers forced to loosen our classical	F
fetters yet all still hostile to your rhyming	G
succumbed to the pressure of our mad duelling	G
and allowed a triumphant mutinous pupil	F
to make Triboulet howl in Latin at will	H
Which of us in those days of pale adolescence	I
didn t share the weary torpor of confinement	J
eyes lost in the dreary blue of a summer sky	G
or the snowfall s whiteness we were dazzled by	G
ears pricked eager waiting a pack of hounds	K
drinking some book s far echo a riot s sound	L
Most of all in summer that melted the leads	M
the walls high blackened filled with dread	N
with the scorching heat or when autumn haze	O
lit the sky with its one monotonous blaze	O
and made the screeching falcons fall asleep	P
white pigeons terrors in their slender keep	P
the season of reverie when the Muse clings	Q
through the endless day to some bell that rings	Q
when Melancholy at noon when all is drowsing	G
at the corridor s end chin in hand dragging	G
eyes bluer and darker than Diderot s Nun	R
that sad obscene tale known to everyone	R
her feet weighed down by premature ennui	S
her brow from night s moist languor un free	S
and unhealthy evenings then feverish nights	T
that make young girls love their bodies outright	U
and sterile pleasure gaze in their mirrors to see	S
the ripening fruits of their own nubility	U
Italian evenings of thoughtless lethargy	S
when knowledge of false delights is revealed	U
when sombre Venus on her high black balcony	S
out of cool censers waves of musk sets free	S
In this war of enervating circumstances	V
matured by your sonnets prepared by your stanzas	V
one evening having sensed the soul of your art	U
I transported Amaury s story into my heart	U
Every mystical void is but two steps away	W
from doubt The potion drop by drop day by day	W
filtering through me I drawn to the abyss since I	G
was fifteen who swiftly deciphered Ren s sigh	G
I parched by some strange thirst for the unknown	X
within the smallest of arteries made its home	Y
I absorbed it all the perfumes the miasmas	V
the long vanished memories sweetest whispers	V
the drawn out tangle of phrases their symbols	V
the rosaries murmuring in mystical madrigals	V
a voluptuous book if ever one was brewed	U
Now whether I m deep in some leafy refuge	Z
or in the sun of a second hemispheres days	V
the eternal swell swaying the ocean waves	V
the view of endless horizons always re born	A2
draw my heart to the dream divine once more	B2
be it in heavy languor of burning summer	C2
or shivering idleness of early December	C2
beneath tobacco smoke clouds hiding the ceiling	G
through the book s subtle mystery always leafing	G
a book so dear to those numb souls whose destiny	S
has one and all stamped them with that same malady	S
in front of the mirror I ve perfected the cruelty	S
of the art that at birth some demon granted me	S
art of that pain that creates true voluptuousness	V
scratching the wound to draw blood from my distress	V
Poet is it an insult or a well turned compliment	U
For regarding you I m like a lover to all intent	U
faced with a ghost whose gestures are caresses	V
with hand eye of unknown charms who blesses	V
in order to drain one s strength All loved beings	V
are cups of venom one drinks with eyes unseeing	G
and the heart that s once transfixed seduced by pain	D2
finds death while still blessing the arrow every day	W

Charles Baudelaire

Letter To Sainte-beuve Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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