With an angelic, rapacious eye
I shall return to where you lie,
And to you I shall soft alight
With all the darkness of the night.
I shall, to you, my dark and fair,
Give kisses cold as moonlit air
And caresses like a serpent’s lust
Twisting in the lightless dust.
When comes the morning, cold and pale,
You will look without avail
For me, for I shall not be near.
While others, by their tenderness,
Prevail upon your innocence,
I shall claim your heart by fear.
This translation into English from Baudelaire’s original French is my own. Enjoy.
