a translation from Charles Baudelaire
Nature, one enlightens you his fire
Another in you mourns the taker.
One said to one, ‘the sepulcher!’
Said to another, ‘the splendor!’
Hermes, mysterious aid of guidance
High one who riles the blazing tempest
Who makes me equal that of Midas,
the saddest of all Alchemists.
My gold dissolves to iron from your spell
That made of paradise a living hell Through a shroud of clouds that slow dispel
I see her corpse I long adorned
Over white celestial shores,
I raise the great sarcophagi.
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