Oracles

TRANSLATIONS FROM BAUDELAIRE 57 VI Dreamedst thou then of those triumphant hours When, that the eternal promise might abide, Thy steed a mild she-ass, thou once didst ride On roads o’erstrewn with branches and fresh flowers ; VII When, thy heart beating high with hope and pride, Thou didst whip out those merchants vile with force, At last the master ? Did not keen remorse Bite thy soul ere the spear had pierced thy side ? VIII I, certes, I shall gladly quit this hell Where dream and action walk not hand-in-hand ! May I use the brand and perish by the brand ! Saint Peter denied Jesus—He did well. GLOIRE ET LOUANGE GLORY and praise to thee, O Satan, in the height Of Heaven, where thou didst rule, and in the night Of Hell, where conquered, dost dream silently ! Grant that one day my soul ’neath Knowledge-Tree Rest near thine own soul, when from thy forehead Like a new temple all its branches spread.