To bear a weight that cannot be borne, <br />Sisyphus, even you aren't that strong, <br />Although your heart cannot be torn <br />Time is short and Art is long. <br />Far from celebrated sepulchers <br />Toward a solitary graveyard <br />My heart, like a drum muffled hard <br />Beats a funeral march for the ill-starred. <br /> <br />—Many jewels are buried or shrouded <br />In darkness and oblivion's clouds, <br />Far from any pick or drill bit, <br /> <br />Many a flower unburdens with regret <br />Its perfume sweet like a secret; <br />In profoundly empty solitude to sit. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated by William A. Sigler <br /> <br /> <br />Submitted by Ryan McGuire<br /><br />Charles Baudelaire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ill-starred/
