The prophetic tribe of the ardent eyes <br />Yesterday they took the road, holding their babies <br />On their backs, delivering to fierce appetites <br />The always ready treasure of pendulous breasts. <br /> <br />The men stick their feet out, waving their guns <br />Alongside the caravan where they tremble together, <br />Scanning the sky their eyes are weighted down <br />In mourning for absent chimeras. <br /> <br />At the bottom of his sandy retreat, a cricket <br />Watched passing, redoubles his song, <br />Cybele, who loves, adds more flower, <br /> <br />Makes fountains out of rock and blossoms from desert <br />Opening up before these travelers in a yawn— <br />A familiar empire, the inscrutable future. <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/travelling-bohemians/
