# La Fin de la journée · The End of the Day

Les Fleurs du mal · Charles Baudelaire · Death

Source: https://1732studios.com/books/baudelaire/la-fin-de-la-journee. Data: https://1732studios.com/books/baudelaire/la-fin-de-la-journee.json.

**1** Sous une lumière blafarde  
Beneath a wan, sickly light
> «blafard(e)» — wan, pallid: «blafard» = 'pale, wan, livid' — the sallow, drained light of a sick-room or a corpse, never warm daylight. «blafarde» is the feminine form, agreeing with «lumière» ('light', a feminine noun). The whole day is lit by this dead glare, which is why life below it merely «court, danse et se tord» without reason.

**2** Court, danse et se tord sans raison  
Life runs, dances and writhes without reason,
> Reflexive «se tordre» — to writhe, twist: «se tordre» is the pronominal form of «tordre» ('to twist, wring'): with «se» the subject twists itself — 'to writhe, to contort'. The three verbs «court, danse et se tord» (runs, dances, writhes) share one subject, «La Vie», held back to the next line — a deferral that makes Life lurch before we even learn it is Life.

**3** La Vie, impudente et criarde.  
Life, shameless and shrill.
> «criard(e)» — shrill, gaudy: «criard» (from «crier», 'to shout') means 'shrill, screeching' of a sound and 'loud, garish' of a color — both senses fit. «La Vie» is capitalized and personified, a shameless, blaring woman; «criarde» is feminine to agree with her. The noisy daylit world she rules is exactly what the Poet longs to escape into night.

**4** Aussi, sitôt qu'à l'horizon  
And so, as soon as on the horizon
> «aussi» (sentence-initial) and «sitôt que»: At the head of a clause «aussi» means 'and so, therefore', not 'also' — it draws a consequence from the shrill daylight just described. «sitôt que» = 'as soon as'. The sentence opens here and only completes across the stanza break, so the thought 'and so, as soon as night rises… the Poet says' steps over the white space — a small enactment of the day giving way to night.


**5** La nuit voluptueuse monte,  
the voluptuous night ascends,

**6** Apaisant tout, même la faim,  
soothing all, even hunger,
> Present participles «apaisant», «effaçant»: «apaisant» ('soothing, appeasing', from «apaiser») and «effaçant» ('erasing, effacing', from «effacer») are present participles describing the night as it rises. The matched pair «Apaisant tout, même… / Effaçant tout, même…» builds an anaphora — night first calms a bodily want (hunger), then wipes out a moral one (shame), climbing from flesh to conscience.

**7** Effaçant tout, même la honte,  
erasing all, even shame,

**8** Le Poète se dit: «Enfin!  
the Poet says to himself: "At last!
> Reflexive «se dire» — to say to oneself: «se dire» is «dire» ('to say') made reflexive: 'to say to oneself'. The «se» turns the speech inward — this is the Poet's private exhalation, not a line spoken aloud. The opening guillemet ««» after «« Enfin! »» starts a quotation that runs unbroken to the poem's last word, so the whole sestet is the Poet's own voice.


**9** Mon esprit, comme mes vertèbres,  
My spirit, like my vertebrae,

**10** Invoque ardemment le repos;  
ardently calls out for rest;
> «invoquer» and «ardemment»: «invoquer» = 'to invoke, call upon, appeal to' — a word with a sacred ring, as one invokes a god, here turned upon «le repos» ('rest'). «ardemment» ('ardently, fervently') is the adverb from «ardent»; note the doubled m and the irregular spelling. Mind and backbone alike — thought and weary body — pray for the same rest.

**11** Le coeur plein de songes funèbres,  
my heart full of funereal dreams,
> «le songe» and «funèbre»: «le songe» is a dream, but a loftier, more literary word than the ordinary «le rêve» — closer to 'a vision'. «funèbre» = 'funereal, of death and burial' (think of «pompes funèbres», an undertaker's). The rest the Poet craves is already shadowed by the grave: his longed-for sleep is half a rehearsal for death, which the next stanza makes explicit.


**12** Je vais me coucher sur le dos  
I am going to lie down on my back
> Near future «aller» + reflexive «se coucher»: «je vais» + infinitive is the near future ('I am going to…'). «se coucher» is reflexive — 'to lay oneself down, to go to bed'; «me» is its first-person pronoun. 'Lying on one's back' is also the posture of the laid-out dead, so this plain bedtime gesture quietly doubles as a burial — the funereal dreams of the line before taking bodily shape.

**13** Et me rouler dans vos rideaux,  
and wrap myself in your curtains,
> «vous» of address — «vos rideaux»: «vos» ('your', plural/formal) tells us the Poet has turned to address someone directly — and the final line names them: the «ténèbres» ('darkness'). «se rouler dans» is 'to roll oneself up in, to wrap up in'. He swathes himself in the curtains of the dark as in a shroud or bedclothes, a gesture both childlike and sepulchral.

**14** Ô rafraîchissantes ténèbres!»  
O refreshing darkness!"
> «les ténèbres» and «rafraîchissant»: «les ténèbres» is a plural-only, elevated noun for 'darkness, gloom' — deeper and more solemn than «l'obscurité», often the dark of death or the underworld. «rafraîchissant» ('refreshing, cooling') turns that darkness into balm: the night the noisy day refused is welcomed, with the apostrophe «Ô», as a cool release. The closing guillemet «»» shuts the quotation the Poet opened at «Enfin».

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Source text: public domain (Charles Baudelaire, d. 1867). English translation: © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC — original draft, pending editorial review.
