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Love in the Afternoon 1972
In Passing
Charles BaudelaireThe traffic roared around me, deafening!
Tall, slender, in mourning - noble grief -
a woman passed, and with a jewelled hand
gathered up her black embroidered hem;stately yet lithe, as if a statue walked. . .
And trembling like a fool, I drank from eyes
as ashen as the clouds before a gale
the grace that beckons and the joy that killsLightning. . . then darkness! Lovely fugitive
whose glance has brought me…Translated from by