Correspondances - Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867),
Correspondances
Laissent parfois sortir de confuses paroles;时常放出些使人迷惑的话语
L'homme y passe à travers des forêts de symboles 人路经宫殿，穿过有象征物的森林
Qui l'observent avec des regards familiers. 自然以熟悉的眼光观察他们
Comme de longs échos qui de loin se confondent 就像来自远处的回声最后熔为一团
Dans une ténébreuse et profonde unité,在黑夜里深深相会，
Vaste comme la nuit et comme la clarté, 博大如黑昼
Les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se répondent. 回荡着芳香 色彩 声音
II est des parfums frais comme des chairs d'enfants, 芳香如同孩儿身上清新Doux comme les hautbois, verts comme les prairies,温柔如同黑管，绿色如同草原
— Et d'autres, corrompus, riches et triomphants, 也有腐化，富裕和胜利
Ayant l'expansion des choses infinies,被放大无限
Comme l'ambre, le musc, le benjoin et l'encens, 如同琥珀，麝香，上香
Qui chantent les transports de l'esprit et des sens. 它们为膨胀的心灵和感知歌唱
— Charles Baudelaire 查尔斯 博德莱尔
（法国薰衣草草译）
Correspondences
Nature is a temple in which living pillars
Sometimes give voice to confused words;
Man passes there through forests of symbols
Which look at him with understanding eyes.
Like prolonged echoes mingling in the distance
In a deep and tenebrous unity,
Vast as the dark of night and as the light of day,
Perfumes, sounds, and colors correspond.
There are perfumes as cool as the flesh of children,
Sweet as oboes, green as meadows
— And others are corrupt, and rich, triumphant,
With power to expand into infinity,
Like amber and incense, musk, benzoin,
That sing the ecstasy of the soul and senses.
— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)
Correspondences
Nature's a temple where each living column,
At times, gives forth vague words. There Man advances
Through forest-groves of symbols, strange and solemn,
Who follow him with their familiar glances.
As long-drawn echoes mingle and transfuse
Till in a deep, dark unison they swoon,
Vast as the night or as the vault of noon —
So are commingled perfumes, sounds, and hues.
There can be perfumes cool as children's flesh,
Like fiddIes, sweet, like meadows greenly fresh.
Rich, complex, and triumphant, others roll
With the vast range of all non-finite things —
Amber, musk, incense, benjamin, each sings
The transports of the senses and the soul.
— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)
