Le Tombeau de Charles Baudelaire
by Stephane Mallarme
The buried temple reveals by the sewer's dark
sepulchral mouth slavering mud and rubies
abominably some idol of Anubis
all the muzzle flaming like a ferocious bark
or if the recent gas twists a squinting wick
that puts up with who knows what dubious
disgrace it haggardly lights an immortal pubis
whose flight depends on the streetlight to say awake
What dried wreaths in cities without evening
votively could bless as if could sit
vainly against the marble of Baudelaire
(in the veil that clothes the absent with shudderings)
this his Shade even a poison tutelar
ever to be breathed though we die of it.
And an alternate translation....
The Tomb of Charles Baudelaire
The shrouded temple divulges through its sepulchral
Mouth a running drain of filth and ruby
Abominable as some Anubian idol
The whole snout aflame as a fierce barking.
Or as the recent gas-light twists the dubious wick
Wiped, one knows, of the suffered opprobrium
It lights up, haggard, an immortal pubis
Whose flight, after its reflection, stays out all night
What dry leaves in the cities without evening
Votive, will be able to bless as she who settles herself again
Vainly against the marble of Baudelaire
In the veil which circles her, absent, with shivering
She is his own Shade- a tutelary poison
Always to breathe though we perish by it.