The End of the Day
Under a sallow light
Runs insolent, shrieking Life,
Dancing and twisting capriciously.
Then, as soon as sensual night
Climbs the horizon
Hushing all, even hunger,
Effacng all, even shame,
The Poet says to himself: "At last
My spirit like my bones
Pleads dearly for repose;
My heart is full of melancholy dreams,
And I go and lie on my back
Coiling myself in your curtains,
O restoring darkness!"
Charles Baudelaire
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