. I was reminded by a reader’s visit of what I posted here three years ago today: Charles Baudelaire’s “Be Drunk” (below). A good-humored dissenting comment reminded of Baudelaire that the man died at age 46 a syphilitic laudanum addict having spent fortunes of inherited money on prostitutes and wine. Ah, well, we are such foibles […]
“Quick now, here, now, always –”
Esteemed reader Copithorne, entering the New Year in a nitpicky mood, was moved by our end of year poetry, “Be Drunk,” to investigate its author, Charles Baudelaire, and offer this Caveat Lector Evidently the man died at age 46 a syphilitic laudanum addict having spent fortunes of inherited money on prostitutes and wine as if […]
Eating Poetry* (VII): for the New Year
Be Drunk Charles Baudelaire Translated by Louis Simpson You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or […]