The Taste of Nothingness - Charles Baudelaire

Oh, my sorrowful soul.

Old fool.

A vicious spark would burn in the wings of your blood,

If the spur of hope gently touched you, you would rear up.

Oh, sick man, breathing deeply with every step now,

Useless horse,

Lie down and learn to endure.

Is there anything in the world that hasn't faded? My soul, cover your pain.

It's time to wake up in heavy marble coffins.

You are covered in defeated wounds, old man.

No longer will the taste of strife reach your waters,

nor will the ceaseless storm of love reach your waters.

Farewell, the song of the flute,

The sighing farewell of the flute,

Knock no more on my sullen and dark doors,

Oh, the depth of pleasures, the fire of sensations, farewell. My soul, your beloved spring has ended.

It's time for those crazy scents to fade away.

The world turns round and round beneath my feet.

A frozen traveler slips into the depths in the snowy mouths of deserted mountains.

The trembling hand of the past, its windy thatched hut.

There's no need for shelter.

O, the immense shudder of time that swallows my body with every breath.

My soul, call upon the avalanches of the world.

Time will envelop you and carry you away, spinning around.

https://kelimelerindansii.blogspot.com/2025/10/hicligin-tad-charles-baudelaire.html