The Moon, Offended
Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet, from the blue countrys heights where the bright seraglio, the stars in their sweet dress, go treading after you, my ancient Cynthia, lamp of my retreat, do you see the lovers, in their beds happiness showing in sleep their mouths cool enamels, the poet bruising his forehead on his troubles, or the vipers coupling under the dry grasses? Under your yellow cloak, with clandestine pacing, do you pass as before, from twilight to morning, to kiss Endymions faded grace? I see your mother, Child of this impoverished century, who, over her mirror, bends a time-worn face, and powders the breast that fed you, skilfully.
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"Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet,..."
"The Moon, Offended" is a quintessential example of Charles Baudelaire's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...