Saturday, August 16, 2008

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 50

When the low, heavy sky weighs like a lid
On the groaning spirit, victim of long ennui,
And from the all-encircling horizon
Spreads over us a day gloomier than the night;

When the earth is changed into a humid dungeon,
In which Hope like a bat
Goes beating the walls with her timid wings
And knocking her head against the rotten ceiling;

When the rain stretching out its endless train
Imitates the bars of a vast prison
And a silent horde of loathsome spiders
Comes to spin their webs in the depths of our brains,

All at once the bells leap with rage
And hurl a frightful roar at heaven,
Even as wandering spirits with no country
Burst into a stubborn, whimpering cry.

— And without drums or music, long hearses
Pass by slowly in my soul; Hope, vanquished,
Weeps, and atrocious, despotic Anguish
On my bowed skull plants her black flag.

Charles Baudelaire, "Spleen".

...but this is better because it's the original:

Quand le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle
Sur l'esprit gémissant en proie aux longs ennuis,
Et que de l'horizon embrassant tout le cercle
II nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits;

Quand la terre est changée en un cachot humide,
Où l'Espérance, comme une chauve-souris,
S'en va battant les murs de son aile timide
Et se cognant la tête à des plafonds pourris;

Quand la pluie étalant ses immenses traînées
D'une vaste prison imite les barreaux,
Et qu'un peuple muet d'infâmes araignées
Vient tendre ses filets au fond de nos cerveaux,

Des cloches tout à coup sautent avec furie
Et lancent vers le ciel un affreux hurlement,
Ainsi que des esprits errants et sans patrie
Qui se mettent à geindre opiniâtrement.

— Et de longs corbillards, sans tambours ni musique,
Défilent lentement dans mon âme; l'Espoir,
Vaincu, pleure, et l'Angoisse atroce, despotique,
Sur mon crâne incliné plante son drapeau noir.


๑۩۞۩๑♥V♥๑۩۞۩๑ said...

that looks like a deadly spider to me..from my night mares.

//When the rain stretching out its endless train//

lovely lovely...

//a silent horde of loathsome spiders
Comes to spin their webs in the depths of our brains,//

goes so well with the image

nice one agian

Deb said...

Looks like a spider to me too. One big mobile death machine. An alien spider creeping along an alien landscape. Hey C, you trying to creep us out?

runnerfrog said...

It is well known how mares of the night like to associate with spiders to empower their effect on people.

Deb, now I am creeped out.

Deb said...

Deb, now I am creeped out.

Spiders are wonderfully creepy ;-)

Will Doohan said...

This Baudelaire sounds like one really depressed guy.

for Cris -
"mares of the night
dark female horses
forces of light
keep them in their courses..."

runnerfrog said...

Well, Charles Baudelaire lived a life chasing immediate, immanent and transcendent beauty; so his work is a reflection of the highs and lows of that struggle.

Excuse my ignorance, I ignore the source of the quoted, at least in english, if it's a translation.

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