My sister, my child <br />imagine, exiled, <br />The sweetness, of being there, we two! <br />To live and to sigh, <br />to love and to die, <br /> In the land that mirrors you! <br />The misted haze <br />of its clouded days <br /> Has the same charm to my mind, <br />as mysterious, <br />as your traiterous <br /> Eyes, behind glittering blinds. <br /> <br /> <br /> There everything’s order and beauty, <br /> calm, voluptuousness, and luxury. <br /> <br /> <br />The surface gleams <br />are polished it seems, <br />Through the years, to grace our room. <br />The rarest flowers <br />mix, with fragrant showers, <br />The vague, amber perfume. <br />The dark, painted halls, <br />the deep mirrored walls, <br />With Eastern splendour hung, <br />all secretly speak, <br />To the soul, its discrete, <br />Sweet, native tongue. <br /> <br />There, everything’s order and beauty, <br />calm, voluptuousness and luxury. <br /> <br />See, down the canals, <br />the sleeping vessels, <br />Those nomads, their white sails furled: <br />Now, to accomplish <br />your every wish, <br />They come from the ends of the world. <br /> - The deep sunsets <br /> surround the west, <br />The canals, the city, entire, <br /> with blue-violet and gold; <br /> And the Earth grows cold <br />In an incandescent fire. <br /> <br />There, everything’s order and beauty, <br />calm, voluptuousness and luxury.<br /><br />Charles Baudelaire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-invitation-to-the-voyage/
