charles baudelaire / à une mendiante rousse [bir kızıl saçlı dilenci kadına] (la tordue)

À une Mendiante rousse

Blanche fille aux cheveux roux,
Dont la robe par ses trous
Laisse voir la pauvreté
Et la beauté,

Pour moi, poète chétif,
Ton jeune corps maladif,
Plein de taches de rousseur,
À sa douceur.

Tu portes plus galamment
Qu’une reine de roman
Ses cothurnes de velours
Tes sabots lourds.

Au lieu d’un haillon trop court,
Qu’un superbe habit de cour
Traîne à plis bruyants et longs
Sur tes talons;

En place de bas troués
Que pour les yeux des roués
Sur ta jambe un poignard d’or
Reluise encor;

Que des noeuds mal attachés
Dévoilent pour nos péchés
Tes deux beaux seins, radieux
Comme des yeux;

Que pour te déshabiller
Tes bras se fassent prier
Et chassent à coups mutins
Les doigts lutins,

Perles de la plus belle eau,
Sonnets de maître Belleau
Par tes galants mis aux fers
Sans cesse offerts,

Valetaille de rimeurs
Te dédiant leurs primeurs
Et contemplant ton soulier
Sous l’escalier,

Maint page épris du hasard,
Maint seigneur et maint Ronsard
Epieraient pour le déduit
Ton frais réduit!

Tu compterais dans tes lits
Plus de baisers que de lis
Et rangerais sous tes lois
Plus d’un Valois!

— Cependant tu vas gueusant
Quelque vieux débris gisant
Au seuil de quelque Véfour
De carrefour;

Tu vas lorgnant en dessous
Des bijoux de vingt-neuf sous
Dont je ne puis, oh! Pardon!
Te faire don.

Va donc, sans autre ornement,
Parfum, perles, diamant,
Que ta maigre nudité,
Ô ma beauté!

Charles Baudelaire

 

To an Auburn-Haired Beggar-Maid

Pale girl with the auburn hair,
Whose dress through its tears and holes
Reveals your poverty
And your beauty,

For me, an ailing poet,
Your body, young and sickly,
Spotted with countless freckles,
Has its sweetness.

You wear with more elegance
Your wooden clogs than the queen
In a romance her sandals
Trimmed with velvet.

Instead of a scanty rag,
Let a glittering court dress
Trail with its long, rustling folds
Over your heels;

In place of stockings with holes,
Let, for the eyes of roués,
A golden poniard glisten
In your garter;

Let ill-tied ribbons give way
And unveil, so we may sin,
Your two lovely breasts, radiant
As shining eyes;

Let your arms demand entreating
To uncover your body
And repel with saucy blows
Roguish fingers,

Pearls of the finest water,
Sonnets by Master Belleau
Constantly offered by swains
Held in love’s chains,

Plebeian versifiers
Offering first books to you
And ogling your slippered foot
From under the stair;

Many a page fond of love’s chance,
Many a Ronsard and lord
For amusement would spy on
Your chilly hut!

You could count in your beds
More kisses than fleurs-de-lis
And subject to your power
Many Valois!

— However, you go begging
Some moldy refuse lying
On the steps of some Véfour
At the crossroads;

You go furtively eyeing
Baubles at twenty-nine sous,
Of which I can’t, oh! pardon!
Make you a gift.

Go, with no more adornment,
Perfume or pearl or diamond,
Than your slender nudity,
O my beauty!

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

Reklamlar

Bir Cevap Yazın

Aşağıya bilgilerinizi girin veya oturum açmak için bir simgeye tıklayın:

WordPress.com Logosu

WordPress.com hesabınızı kullanarak yorum yapıyorsunuz. Çıkış  Yap /  Değiştir )

Google fotoğrafı

Google hesabınızı kullanarak yorum yapıyorsunuz. Çıkış  Yap /  Değiştir )

Twitter resmi

Twitter hesabınızı kullanarak yorum yapıyorsunuz. Çıkış  Yap /  Değiştir )

Facebook fotoğrafı

Facebook hesabınızı kullanarak yorum yapıyorsunuz. Çıkış  Yap /  Değiştir )

Connecting to %s