Passersby

Charles Baudelaire
1821 - 1867
To a passerby

The deafening street around me was roaring.
Tall, slender, in deep mourning, majestic in grief,
A woman passed by, with a lavish hand
Lifting, swaying the festoon and the hem; ;

Agile and noble, with her statue-like leg.
I was drinking, tense like a madman,
In his eye, a livid sky where the hurricane germinates,
The gentleness that fascinates and the pleasure that kills.

A flash of light... then night! - Fleeting beauty
Whose gaze suddenly brought me back to life,
Will I only see you again in eternity?

Elsewhere, far, far away! Too late! Perhaps never!
Because I don't know where you're fleeing, you don't know where I'm going,
Oh you whom I would have loved, oh you who knew it!