The Cracked Bell
How bittersweet it is on winter nights To hear old recollections raise themselves Around the flickering fire's wisps of light And through the mist, in voices of the bells. Blessed is the bell of clear and virile throat Alert and dignified despite his rust, Who faithfully repeats religion's notes As an old soldier keeps a watchman's trust. My spirit, though, is cracked; when as she can She chants to fill the cool night's emptiness, Too often can her weakening voice be said To sound the rattle of a wounded man Beside a bloody pool, stacked with the dead, Who cannot budge, and dies in fierce distress!
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About this line
"How bittersweet it is on winter nights..."
"The Cracked Bell" 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...