The Murderer's Wine Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCA DEFD GGHG IJJK LAAL GMMN GOOG PQQG MRRM STTS UVWU MXXM TYYT| My wife is dead and I am free | A |
| And I can guzzle all I want | B |
| When I came home without a cent | C |
| Her crying knifed the heart in me | A |
| - | |
| I am as happy as a king | D |
| The air is pure the sky divine | E |
| We had such sky another time | F |
| When first our love was blossoming | D |
| - | |
| The awful thirst I feel today | G |
| Would need to get it rightly slaked | G |
| All of the wine that it would take | H |
| To fill her tomb a lot to say | G |
| - | |
| I threw her in a well and then | I |
| I even pitched some heavy stones | J |
| Out of the well curb on her bones | J |
| I'll forget her if I can | K |
| - | |
| Naming those vows of tenderness | L |
| From which no power can set us free | A |
| To reconcile us as when we | A |
| Loved with a drunken happiness | L |
| - | |
| One night along a road I named | G |
| I begged her for a rendezvous | M |
| She came a crazy thing to do | M |
| But more or less we're all insane | N |
| - | |
| She was still pretty though a sight | G |
| Tired with age and troubles I | O |
| I loved her too much That is why | O |
| I said to her you die tonight | G |
| - | |
| No one can understand me Crowds | P |
| Of loutish drunks not one could think | Q |
| In his most morbid nights of drink | Q |
| Of turning wine into a shroud | G |
| - | |
| Scum of the earth this doltish crew | M |
| Like iron mechanisms all | R |
| Never in winter spring or fall | R |
| Have understood what love can do | M |
| - | |
| Love with its dark enchanting pains | S |
| Troupe of anxieties from hell | T |
| Its flasks of poison tears as well | T |
| Its rattlings of bones and chains | S |
| - | |
| Now I am free and stand alone | U |
| Dead drunk is what I'll get right here | V |
| And then without remorse or fear | W |
| I'll make my bed on dirt and stone | U |
| - | |
| And sleep as any dog would do | M |
| That cart with heavy wheels the truck | X |
| Loaded with rocks and city muck | X |
| That runaway I welcome to | M |
| - | |
| Come crush my head or it might well | T |
| Cut me in half right where I am | Y |
| And I don't give a good god damn | Y |
| For God Communion or for Hell | T |
Charles Baudelaire
(1)
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