The Flowers of Evil 1732 Studios

French · Spleen and Ideal

Une Charogne

A Carcass

48 lines · 22 notes

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  1. 1

    Remember the thing we saw, my soul,

    Rappelezrememberrappeler · verb, imperative, second-person, pluralmain verb of the sentence
    -vousyourselfvous · pronoun, reflexive, pluralreflexive object of Rappelez
    l'thele · determiner, singulardeterminer of objet
    objetthingobjet · noun, masculine, singulardirect object of Rappelez
    quethatque · pronoun, relativedirect object of vîmes, introduces relative clause on objet
    nouswenous · pronoun, pluralsubject of vîmes
    vîmessawvoir · verb, past, indicative, first-person, pluralclausal complement of Rappelez
    monmymon · determiner, singulardeterminer of âme
    âmesoulâme · noun, feminine, singularvocative address
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    that beautiful summer morning so mild:

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    at the bend of a path, a vile carcass

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    on a bed strewn with pebbles,

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    legs in the air, like a lustful woman,

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    burning and sweating out its poisons,

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    opened in a nonchalant and cynical way

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    its belly full of foul exhalations.

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    The sun blazed down on this rottenness,

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    as if to cook it through to a turn,

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    and to give back a hundredfold to great Nature

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    all that she had joined together;

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    And the sky watched the magnificent carcass

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    open out like a flower.

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    The stench was so strong that on the grass

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    you thought you would faint.

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    The flies were buzzing over that putrid belly,

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    out of which black battalions poured,

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    of larvae, that flowed like a thick liquid

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    down the length of those living rags.

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    All this sank, rose like a wave,

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    or surged up, crackling and sparkling;

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    one would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath,

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    was living by multiplying itself.

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    And this world gave off a strange music,

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    like running water and the wind,

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    or the grain that a winnower, with a rhythmic motion,

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    shakes and turns in his winnowing-basket.

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    The forms were fading and were now no more than a dream,

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    a sketch slow in coming

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    on the forgotten canvas, which the artist completes

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    only by memory.

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    Behind the rocks an anxious bitch

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    watched us with an angry eye,

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    watching for the moment to take back from the skeleton

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    the morsel she had let go.

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    — And yet you too will be like this filth,

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    like this horrible infection,

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    star of my eyes, sun of my being,

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    you, my angel and my passion!

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    Yes! such you will be, O queen of graces,

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    after the last sacraments,

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    when you go, beneath the grass and the rank blossoms,

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    to moulder among the bones.

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    Then, O my beauty! tell the vermin

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    that will devour you with kisses,

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    that I have kept the form and the divine essence

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    of my decomposed loves!

The particulars

The text
Les Fleurs du mal, Charles Baudelaire. Spleen and Ideal.
Translation
Public-domain French (Baudelaire, d. 1867). English translation © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC.
Words
Every word of the text, by letter.
Data
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