Le Possédé

I feel stupid and useless today. On these days I find myself staring at poems full of words that I know I know but for some reason cannot immediately recognize. Maybe I am just hungry or something.

The Possessed
The sun is covered with crepe. Like him,
Oh moon of my life! Swaddle yourself with shadow
Sleep or smoke to your will; be silent, be somber,
And plunge your whole entirety into the abyss of Ennui.

I love you so! Yet, if you wished today,
Like an eclipsed star that draws out from the half-light,
To strut yourself about in the places which Folly obstructs
That is fine! Charming dagger, spring from your pouch!

Light your pupils with the flame of the chandeliers!
Light the desire in the looks of the louts!
All of you to me is pleasure, morbid or exuberant;

Be that which you want, black night, red daybreak;
There is not one fiber in my whole trembling body
That does not cry: Oh my dear Beelzebub, I adore you!

Le Possédé
Le soleil s'est couvert d'un crêpe. Comme lui,
Ô Lune de ma vie! emmitoufle-toi d'ombre
Dors ou fume à ton gré; sois muette, sois sombre,
Et plonge tout entière au gouffre de l'Ennui;

Je t'aime ainsi! Pourtant, si tu veux aujourd'hui,
Comme un astre éclipsé qui sort de la pénombre,
Te pavaner aux lieux que la Folie encombre
C'est bien! Charmant poignard, jaillis de ton étui!

Allume ta prunelle à la flamme des lustres!
Allume le désir dans les regards des rustres!
Tout de toi m'est plaisir, morbide ou pétulant;

Sois ce que tu voudras, nuit noire, rouge aurore;
II n'est pas une fibre en tout mon corps tremblant
Qui ne crie: Ô mon cher Belzébuth, je t'adore!

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Oh, more melodrama.