à? Une Dame Créole (to A Creole Lady) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


Au pays parfum que le soleil caresseA
J'ai connu sous un dais d'arbres tout empourpr sA
Et de palmiers d'o pleut sur les yeux la paresseA
Une dame cr ole aux charmes ignor sA
Son teint est p le et chaud la brune enchanteresseA
A dans le cou des airs noblement mani r sA
Grande et svelte en marchant comme une chasseresseA
Son sourire est tranquille et ses yeux assur sA
Si vous alliez Madame au vrai pays de gloireB
Sur les bords de la Seine ou de la verte LoireB
Belle digne d'orner les antiques manoirsA
Vous feriez l'abri des ombreuses retraitesA
Germer mille sonnets dans le coeur des po tesA
Que vos grands yeux rendraient plus soumis que vos noirsA
To a Creole LadyC
In the perfumed country which the sun caressesA
I knew under a canopy of crimson treesA
And palms from which indolence rains into your eyesA
A Creole lady whose charms were unknownD
Her complexion is pale and warm the dark enchantressA
Affects a noble air with the movements of her neckE
Tall and slender she walks like a huntressA
Her smile is calm and her eye confidentF
If you went Madame to the true land of gloryC
On the banks of the Seine or along the green LoireB
Beauty fit to ornament those ancient manorsA
You'd make in the shelter of those shady retreatsA
A thousand sonnets grow in the hearts of poetsA
Whom your large eyes would make more subject than your slavesA
Translated by William AggelerB
To a Colonial LadyC
In scented countries by the sun caressedG
I've known beneath a tent of purple boughsA
And palmtrees shedding slumber as they drowseA
A creole lady with a charm unguessedG
She's pale and warm and duskily beguilingH
Nobility is moulded in her neckE
Slender and tall she holds herself in checkE
An huntress born sure eyed and quiet smilingH
Should you go Madam to the land of gloryC
Along the Seine or Loire where you would meritG
To ornament some mansion famed in storyC
Your eyes would bum in those deep shaded partsA
And breed a thousand rhymes in poets' heartsA
Tamed like the negro slaves that you inheritG
Translated by Roy CampbellI
To a Creole LadyC
In that perfumed country caressed by the sunJ
I have known under a canopy of purple treesA
And palms raining idleness upon the eyesA
A creole lady of private beautyC
Her shade is pale and warm this brown enchantressA
Has gracefully mannered airs in her neckE
Large and sinuous walking like a huntressA
Her smile is silent and her eyes secureB
If you should go Madam to the true country of gloryC
On the banks of the Seine or of the green LoireB
Fair lady fit to decorate ancient mansionsA
In some shady and secluded refuge you would awakeK
A thousand sonnets in the hearts of poetsA
Whom your great eyes would make more subject than your BlacksA
Translated by Geoffrey WagnerB

Charles Baudelaire


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