Poetic Space ||| About |||| Guestbook |||| Etherealism Literary Journal |||| Library ||| The Poet as Flourishing
Forums ||| Chat Rooms ||| The Wanderlust Poets Society ||| Links ||| Contact ||| Stores
Charles Baudelaire
Poetry ||| Letters |||| Portraits |||| Biography |||| Astrology Chart |||| Books ||| Links

Litany to Satan (Les Litanies de Satan)
by Charles Baudelaire (1857); translated by James Elroy Flecker (1920).

O grandest of the Angels, and most wise,
O fallen God, fate-driven from the skies,
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

O first of exiles who endurest wrong,
Yet growest, in thy hatred, still more strong,
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

O subterranean King, omniscient,
Healer of man's immortal discontent,
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

To lepers and to outcasts thou dost show
That passion is the paradise below.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou by thy mistress Death hast given to man
Hope, the imperishable courtesan.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou givest to the Guilty their calm mien
Which damns the crowd around the guillotine
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou knowest the corners of the jealous Earth
Where God has hidden jewels of great worth.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou dost discover by mysterious signs
Where sleep the buried people of the mines.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou stretchest forth a saving hand to keep
Such men as roam upon the roofs in sleep.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thy power can make the halting Drunkard's feet
Avoid the peril of the surging street.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thou, to console our helplessness, didst plot
The cunning use of powder and of shot.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Thy awful name is written as with pitch
On the unrelenting foreheads of the rich.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

In strange and hidden places thou dost move
Where women cry for torture in their love.
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.

Father of those whom God's tempestuous ire
Has flung from Paradise with sword and fire,
Satan, at last take pity on our pain.


PRAYER

Satan, to thee be praise upon the Height
Where thou wast king of old, and in the night
Of Hell, where thou dost dream on silently.
Grant that one day beneath the Knowledge-tree,
When it shoots forth to grace thy royal brow,
My soul may sit, that cries upon thee now.


PAGE 3 OF 3.

• • • • •Dearest Décadent, to read the first page of this series,
kindly click on the link at the very bottom of this page.
• • • • •


• • • •To read poems by Other Horrible Workers (poets
in today's day and age), kindly click HERE.
• • • •

Bookmark and Share


• • • ATTENTION GOOD SCHOLARS!!! • • •
Information for How to Cite this Webpage:

AUTHOR: Charles Baudelaire (1857); translated by James Elroy Flecker (1920).
TITLE OF WEBPAGE: PoeticSpace:Baudelaire:Poems:LesLitaniesdeSatan:Page3
TITLE OF WEBSITE: Poetic SpacePUBLISHER: Lannie Brockstein
DATE PUBLISHED/LAST UPDATED: March 16 2014URL/WEBPAGE ADDRESS:
http://webspace.webring.com/people/tl/lanouvelledecadence/baupoemslit03.html

• • •Websites that provide examples or that generate citation for essays
in the styles of AMA, MLA, Chicago, Turabian, and more:
Study Guides and Strategies
Son of Citation Machinewikihow: How to Cite a Website• • •


• • •Permanently archive this page as it appears to you today,
for future academic reference, with WebCite.
• • •


• • • • • To read the first page of this series, please click HERE.• • • • •
• • • • •To return to the previous Table of Contents page, please click HERE.• • • • •
• • • •You are invited to discuss Charles Baudelaire in our FORUMS!• • • •



Bookmark and Share

Poetic Space

All Rights Reserved.