The Clock

СловаCharles Baudelaire
МузыкаLaurent Boutonnat
Переводнеизвестный автор
Язык английский

Clock! sinister god, frightening, impassive,

Whose finger threatens us and says to us: “Remember!

The vibrant Pains in your heart full of dread

Will soon plant themselves as in a target;

Hazy Pleasure will escape towards the horizon

Like a sylph behind the scenes;

Each instant devours of you a piece of delight

Accorded to each man for all his seasons.

3600 times per hour the Second

Whispers: Remember! — Quickly, with its voice

Insect-like, Now says: I am in the Past,

And I have soaked up your life with my foul trunk!

Remember! Remember, prodigal! Esto memor!

(My metal throat speaks all tongues.)

The minutes, deadly playful, are the coatings

That must not be released without extracting the gold from them!

Remember that Time is an avid player

Who wins without cheating, always! It’s the law,

The day decreases; the night grow; remember!

The abyss’s thirst is eternal; the clepsydre empties.

Now sounds the hour when divine Fate

When august Virtue, its still-virginal bride,

When even Repentance (oh! The last inn!)

When everything says to you:

Die, old coward! It is too late!”

© RuMoHoR 2001—2014