French · Flowers of Evil

La Destruction

Destruction

14 lines · 9 notes

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1
Without cease, at my side, the Demon stirs;
SansWithoutsans · prepositionpreposition marking cesse
cesseceasecesse · noun, feminine, singularobject of Sans, forms adverbial phrase modifying agite
àatà · prepositionpreposition marking côtés
mesmymon · determiner, pluraldeterminer of côtés
côtéssidecôté · noun, masculine, pluralobject of à, modifies agite
s'itselfse · pronoun, reflexivereflexive particle of agite
agitestirsagiter · verb, present, indicative, third-person, singularmain verb of the sentence
lethele · determiner, masculine, singulardeterminer of Démon
DémonDemondémon · noun, masculine, singularsubject of agite
GrammarPronominal «s'agiter» «s'agiter» is the pronominal verb 'to fidget, stir, thrash about'. The reflexive «se» keeps the motion self-driven — the «Démon» writhes of his own accord. Note the inversion: the verb «s'agite» comes before its subject «le Démon», a common verse order that lets the restless action land before we learn what is restless. The opening «sans cesse» ('ceaselessly') fixes the poem's tempo — the Demon is never absent, never still.
2
He swims around me like an impalpable air;
3
I swallow him and feel him burning my lung
Grammar«le sens qui…» — the object made vivid «je le sens qui brûle» — 'I feel him burning'. French sets a perception verb plus a pronoun plus «qui» and a finite verb where English prefers a participle: «sentir quelqu'un qui fait» = 'to feel someone doing'. The «le» is the Demon, now swallowed; «sens» is the verb «sentir» ('to feel, sense'), not the noun.
4
And fills it with a desire eternal and guilty.
Wordemplir «emplir» = 'to fill (up)', a more literary, fuller-bodied cousin of «remplir». The «l'» is the lung («poumon») of the line before: the burning Demon does not just scorch it but brims it with «un désir éternel et coupable» — a desire at once unending and sinful.
5
Sometimes he takes on, knowing my great love of Art,
GrammarPresent participle «sachant» «sachant» is the present participle of «savoir» ('to know') — 'knowing'. It opens a parenthetical clause, «sachant mon grand amour de l'Art», that explains the Demon's tactic: because he knows the poet's love of Art, he disguises himself as beautiful. The participle is irregular (not «savant», which would mean 'learned').
6
The shape of the most seductive of women,
7
And, under specious pretexts of low spirits,
Wordle cafard «le cafard» literally is 'cockroach', but figuratively means 'the blues, gloom, low spirits' — the very mood the «Spleen» poems live in. The phrase «prétextes de cafard» casts melancholy itself as the Demon's excuse: he pretends sad weariness to lower the poet's guard. «spécieux» = 'specious, plausible but false'.
8
He accustoms my lip to vile love-potions.
Wordun philtre «un philtre» is a magic 'love-potion' or charmed draught (not «un filtre», a 'filter', though they sound alike). «accoutumer X à Y» = 'to accustom X to Y'. The Demon trains the poet's lip to «des philtres infâmes» — vile, dishonorable potions — making vice habitual.
9
He leads me thus, far from the gaze of God,
10
Panting and broken with fatigue, into the midst
GrammarParticiples describing «me» «Haletant» (present participle of «haleter», 'to pant') and «brisé» (past participle of «briser», 'to break') both modify the «me» of the line above — it is the poet, not the Demon, who is left gasping and «brisé de fatigue» ('broken with fatigue'). The pairing of an active participle (panting) with a passive one (broken) catches both the effort and the wreck of it.
11
Of the plains of Ennui, deep and deserted,
Wordl'Ennui «l'Ennui», capitalized, is far heavier than English 'boredom': it is the suffocating spiritual weariness — the void, the spleen — that Baudelaire names the worst of all monsters in the opening «Au lecteur». Here its «plaines… profondes et désertes» (deep, deserted plains) are the wasteland the Demon drags the poet across.
12
And throws into my eyes full of confusion
13
Soiled garments, open wounds,
14
And the bloody apparatus of Destruction!
Wordl'appareil «l'appareil» here keeps its older, grand sense of 'apparatus, array, pomp, paraphernalia' — the whole bloody apparatus of «la Destruction», not a modern 'device'. Capitalized and held to the very last word, «la Destruction» becomes the title-figure the poem has been building toward: the final, gory tableau the Demon casts before the poet's confused eyes.

The particulars

The text: Les Fleurs du mal, Charles Baudelaire. Flowers of Evil.
Words: Every word of the text, by letter.
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