Tonight the moon dreams in a deeper languidness,
And, like a beauty on her cushions, lies at rest;
While drifting off to sleep, a tentative caress
Seeks, with a gentle hand, the contour of her breast;
As on a crest above her silken avalanche,
Dying, she yields herself to an unending swoon,
And sees a pallid vision everywhere she-d glance,
In the azure sky where blossoms have been strewn.
When sometime, in her weariness, upon her sphere
She might permit herself to sheda furtive tear,
A poet of great piety, a foe of sleep,
Catches in the hollow of his hand that tear,
An opal fragment, iridescent as a star;
Within his heart, far from the sun, it-s buried deep.
Sorrows Of The Moon
Charles Baudelaire
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Poem topics: beauty, heart, moon, sky, star, sun, gentle, deep, great, sphere, vision, poet, permit, sleep, tear, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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