Charles Baudelaire (1821.-1867.) was a famous Franch poet, art critic and translator. His most famous work is book of poetry "The Flowers of Evil", first published in 1857. Main subject of Baudelaire's poetry are decadence and eroticism which was very progressive for that time. He was also prosecuted for his work for "creating an offence against public morals". The idea for this post came from my only commentator at this moment (nothing profound), which introduced me with Baudelaire's poem "Albatross" while commenting on my last post "Pictures of albatrosses". So here they are - 10 images of Charles Baudelaire.
"Inspiration comes from working every day."
Baudelaire's grave in famous "Montparnasse" graveyard in Paris
Photo of Charles Baudelaire taken by his friend, French photographer Nadar.
"Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses."
"The world only goes round by misunderstanding."
Portrait of Charles Baudelaire
Charles Baudelaire statue in Paris.
Some unknown artist drawing of Charles Baudelaire.
"What is art? Prostitution."
"Always be a poet, even in a prose."
And for the end here is the poem "The Albatross" which was inspiration for Baudelaire photo post.
"Inspiration comes from working every day."
Baudelaire's grave in famous "Montparnasse" graveyard in Paris
Photo of Charles Baudelaire taken by his friend, French photographer Nadar.
"Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses."
"The world only goes round by misunderstanding."
Portrait of Charles Baudelaire
Charles Baudelaire statue in Paris.
Some unknown artist drawing of Charles Baudelaire.
"What is art? Prostitution."
"Always be a poet, even in a prose."
And for the end here is the poem "The Albatross" which was inspiration for Baudelaire photo post.
The Albatross
Often, to amuse themselves, the men of a crew
Catch albatrosses, those vast sea birds
That indolently follow a ship
As it glides over the deep, briny sea.
Scarcely have they placed them on the deck
Than these kings of the sky, clumsy, ashamed,
Pathetically let their great white wings
Drag beside them like oars.
That winged voyager, how weak and gauche he is,
So beautiful before, now comic and ugly!
One man worries his beak with a stubby clay pipe;
Another limps, mimics the cripple who once flew!
The poet resembles this prince of cloud and sky
Who frequents the tempest and laughs at the bowman;
When exiled on the earth, the butt of hoots and jeers,
His giant wings prevent him from walking.
Translated by William Aggeler
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