Charles Baudelaire
Evening Harmony
Now is the time when, throbbing on its stem,
Each flower sheds its perfume like incense
Sounds and scents spiral in the evening air
In a melancholy waltz, a slow sensual drag

Each flower sheds its perfume like incense;
The violin trembles like a wounded heart,
In a melancholy waltz, a slow, sensual turning
The sky is sad and beautiful, like a vast altar

The violin trembles like a wounded heart,
A tender heart that hates the huge black void
The sky is sad and beautiful like a vast altar
The sun has drowned in its congealing blood

A tender heart that hates the huge, black void
Is gathering from the luminous past what dreams remain
The sun has drowned in its congealing blood,
And like a glowing marvel, your memory shines in me