National Poetry Month: April 14th

April 14, 2013

Spleen by Charles Baudelaire (translated by Norman R. Shapiro)

When, on our groaning, ennui-ridden soul,
The heavens hang low, weigh like a lid, pressed tight;
When, circling the horizon like a bowl,
They pour a daylight sad as blackest night;
When earth turns dungeon dank, where Hope, much like
A bat, entrapped, in desperation seems
To flail the walls with timid wing, and strike
Her head against the ceiling’s rotting beams;

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