BENEDICTION
Que tes mains soient bénies, car elles sont impures.
Charles Baudelaire.
The shining of your golden eyes I bless!
That broke my dark delirium with light.
The smile that wavers on your lips I bless!
It kindled me like wine, it rent my night.
The poison in your kisses hid, I bless!
All thoughts, all dreams are poisoned by your kiss.
The scythe that sings in your embrace I bless!
All my past years you have mown down with this.
The fire of your awful love I bless!
I wrapped its flame about me joyfully.
The darkness of your spirit, lo, I bless!
For that its wings were outstretched over me.
Blessed all you gave, blessed what your soul denies:
I bless you for the grief, the dread, the pain;
That after you I strove toward Paradise;
That here without its gates, I stand in vain.
