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The Fountain Of Blood

Topics: classic

Sometimes it seems my blood spurts out in gobs     As if it were a fountain's pulsing sobs;     I clearly hear it mutter as it goes,     Yet cannot find the wound from which it flows.     Then through the city, coursing in the lists,     It travels, forming islands in its midst,     Seeing that every creature will be fed     And staining nature its flamboyant red.     Oh, I have asked of wine the magic way     To drug my terrors, even for a day;     Wine clears the eye, makes hearing more distinct!     I've sought forgetfulness in love, but failed,     Since love for me is just a bed of nails     Made to provide these women bloody drink!

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"Sometimes it seems my blood spurts out in gobs..."

Exploring the themes of classic, Charles Baudelaire delivers a powerful performance in "The Fountain Of Blood"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

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"Je suis comme le roi dun pays pluvieux,     Riche..."

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