Charles Baudelaire "Obsession" Poem animation

Heres a virtual movie of the legendary French poet Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867) reading his poem "Obsession" . The superb reading is by Louis Jourdan Charles Baudelaire was a 19th century French poet, translator, and literary and art critic whose reputation rests primarily on Les Fleurs du mal; (1857;The Flowers of Evil) which was perhaps the most important and influential poetry collection published in Europe in the 19th century. Similarly, his Petits poèmes en prose (1868; "Little Prose Poems") was the most successful and innovative early experiment in prose poetry of the time. Known for his highly contraversial, and often dark poetry, as well as his translation of the tales of Edgar Allan Poe, Baudelaire's life was filled with drama and strife, from financial disaster to being prosecuted for obscenity and blasphemy. Long after his death many look upon his name as representing depravity and vice: Others see him as being the poet of modern civilization, seeming to speak directly to the 20th century. Kind Regards Jim Clark All rights are reserved on this video recording copyright Jim Clark 2012

Obsession...............

You forests, like cathedrals, are my dread: You roar like organs. Our curst hearts, like cells Where death forever rattles on the bed, Echo your de Profundis as it swells. My spirit hates you, Ocean! sees, and loathes Its tumults in your own. Of men defeated The bitter laugh, that's full of sobs and oaths, Is in your own tremendously repeated. How you would please me, Night! without your stars Which speak a foreign dialect, that jars On one who seeks the void, the black, the bare. Yet even your darkest shade a canvas forms Whereon my eye must multiply in swarms Familiar looks of shapes no longer there.

Translation..Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

Obsession..........

Grands bois, vous m'effrayez comme des cathédrales; Vous hurlez comme l'orgue; et dans nos coeurs maudits, Chambres d'éternel deuil où vibrent de vieux râles, Répondent les échos de vos De profundis. Je te hais, Océan! tes bonds et tes tumultes, Mon esprit les retrouve en lui; ce rire amer De l'homme vaincu, plein de sanglots et d'insultes, Je l'entends dans le rire énorme de la mer Comme tu me plairais, ô nuit! sans ces étoiles Dont la lumière parle un langage connu! Car je cherche le vide, et le noir, et le nu! Mais les ténèbres sont elles-mêmes des toiles Où vivent, jaillissant de mon oeil par milliers, Des êtres disparus aux regards familiers

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