Be Drunk

Charles Baudelaire

Translanted by Louis Simpson

You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

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*sigh*  I think I will choose from this point on to be drunk on poetry.

Someday I am going to settle in to seriously study Beaudelaire.  I really am.  This translation surely is reason enough to get started, dontcha think?  And then there’s the constant tease of Fleurs De Mal (brainchild of SuperVert — our in-house Deviant Savant).   But first I need a power bath.  One must be elegantly prepared for such endeavors.

xo, Angela

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