July 18, 2008


Mon semblable — mon frère


Serré, fourmillant, comme un million d’helminthes,
Dans nos cerveaux ribote un peuple de Démons,
Et, quand nous respirons, la Mort dans nos poumons
Descend, fleuve invisible, avec de sourdes plaintes.

(Charles Baudelaire. “Au Lecteur”. Les Fleurs du mal.)

posted by Sheila Ryan in aesthetics, poetry, sports 

comments

10 Responses to “Mon semblable — mon frère”

  1. Tracy on July 18th, 2008 at 10:38 pm

    Comme je descendais des Fleuves impassibles,
    Je ne me sentis plus guidé par les haleurs

    Obscure? Maybe. But definitely my way of smelling what you’re cooking.

  2. Sheila Ryan on July 18th, 2008 at 10:48 pm

    Ah. You catch my Baudelairean drift.

    Have a care. L’humeur est vagabonde.

  3. Tracy on July 18th, 2008 at 10:51 pm

    fugitif et transitoire.

    just like me.

  4. Alek Lindus on July 19th, 2008 at 1:01 am

    Tangential offering:
    If you stand naked before a mirror at midnight you see,
    you see a man moving through the mirror’s depths
    the man destined to rule your body
    in loneliness and silence, the man
    of loneliness and silence
    and may the fires burn.

    The fires of st john - seferis

    in the manner of ‘wheel spokes’ or maybe gardens and non anecdotes, but then i’m ‘bound’ to miss the point

  5. Rick Neece on July 19th, 2008 at 9:31 pm

    I can’t read french, nor speak. Still, if I may try with the help of the translato-wheel, to translate:

    Sweet formula, come a million Creme-de-Menthes
    Your ribald purple demons cannot dance with my cervix,
    And with many breaths, Mort, in pompons, can’t either
    Come down you invisible gasses and feed your plants.

    And then Tracy’s:
    Come on down you impossible farts
    I don’t want your bourgeois halos.

    Somehow that doesn’t fit with the picture. (Sheila is this Jon, comtemplating a shot at Eagle Ridge?)

  6. Sheila Ryan on July 20th, 2008 at 2:28 pm

    Rick, I like both your translato-wheel version and Tracy’s better than I do some critically respected translations of Baudelaire (such as Richard Howard’s).

  7. Tracy on July 21st, 2008 at 8:37 am

    How did I miss this?

    Come on down you impossible farts
    I don’t want your bourgeois halos.

    So vulnerable yet so pungent.

    I weep now.

  8. Sheila Ryan on July 21st, 2008 at 9:08 am

    Okay, somewhere I’ve got some Finno-Ugaric (specifically, Hungarian) porn I bought as part of a three-pack at the Adult Warehouse in Dubuque. Soon as I turn it up, I’ll post a text excerpt for Rick and Tracy and any of y’all to translate.

  9. Rick Neece on July 21st, 2008 at 8:52 pm

    Bring it Sheila, I’ll make a weak attempt. (I may have once visited the very warehouse you reference.)

    Ooops! Did I say that out loud?

  10. Sheila Ryan on July 21st, 2008 at 9:08 pm

    It’s the finest in Dubuque. Maybe the only.

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