LESBOS - After Baudelaire

 

                                                                               

Lesbos

 

 

Mother of all Latin sports, and Greek volupté,

Lesbos, o the kisses joyously languishing,

Warm like the sun and fresh as melons

That ornament the days and nights with their glory;

Mother of all Latin sports and Greek volupté.

 

Lesbos, where the kisses are like cascades

Falling fearlessly onto the bottomless pits

And running, bleeding, giggling, jerking,

Storming secret the formulating depths;

Lesbos, where the kisses are like cascades.

 

Lesbos, where the Phyrnes are attracted to one another,

And where a sigh never falls without an echo,

Like in Paphos with only the stars admiring

So Venus has every right to be jealous of Sapho!

Lesbos, where the Phyrnes are attracted to one another.

 

Lesbos, land of warm nights languorous,

 Making out to their mirrors, sterile and voluptuous,

The girls with rabid eyes, their beloved bodies,

Caressing the ripe nubile fruit:

O Lesbos, land of warm nights voluptuous.

 

 

 

Leave old Plato wrinkled with an austere eye;

You can receive your pardon from an excess of kisses,

Queen of this gentle empire, friendly and noble land,

 With so many refinements always so plentiful.

Leave old wrinkled Plato with an austere eye.

 

You extract your pardon from the eternal martyr,

Inflicted unceasingly on ambitious hearts

Who attract far from us the radiant smile

Interviewed vaguely on the border of the heavens!

You extract your pardon from the eternal martyr.

 

Which of the Gods dares to judge you, Lesbos,

And condemn your pale forehead to labour,

If the golden balance does not weigh with the deluge,

Have all the tears of the sea fallen in the streams?

Which of the Gods dares to judge you, Lesbos?   

 

Who among us wants the judgemental laws?

Virgins with sublime hearts, honour the archipelago,

Your religion like any other is august,

And love laughs in both Hell and the Heavens!

Who amongst us wants the judgemental laws?

 

For Lesbos, among everyone, chose me on this earth

To sing the secret of her virgin flowers,

And I fled childhood to be admitted into her dark mystery,

Unbridled laughter mixed with sombre tears,

For Lesbos, among everyone, chose me on this earth.

 

And since I have aged upon the summit of Leucate,

Like a sentinel with a sure and piercing eye,

Who watches night and day, tartan or frigate,

All of those forms that appear tantalisingly on the horizon;

And since I have aged upon the summit of Leucate,

 

To see if the sea is indulgent and good,

 Among the tears that the rock retains

One night brought Lesbos bound, who pardons,

The adored corpse of Sapho, who parted

To see if the sea is indulgent and good!

 

To the male Sapho, lover and poet,

Even more beautiful than Venus with his mournful pallor,

The azure eye vanquished by the black spotted eye

Circling the darkening regions marked by suffering;

To the male Sapho, lover and poet.

 

More beautiful than Venus erected for the world

Pouring all the treasures of serenity

And the reigning light of blond youth,

On the old ocean of her enchanted daughter;

More beautiful than Venus erected for the world.

 

For Sapho, who died on the day of her own blasphemy,

When, insulting the rite of the invented cult,

She made of her beautiful body the supreme pasture

With a brutal pride punishing impiety,

To she who died on the day of this blasphemy.

 

And since this time that Lesbos laments,

And despite the honours that she is given by the universe,

Every night intoxicated with cries and torment

 They are pushed towards the vast deserted deserts,

                                                       Ever since the time that Lesbos laments.