Текст песни Шарль Бодлер - Неудача

Oh, if my chest penetrated ,
Sisyphus , your spirit in the bold,
I'd accomplished the work of a skillful hand !
Art - an eternity , time - instant .
 
The coffin abandoned , sad ,
Tombs great throwing mill ,
My spirit , thundering like a drum ,
It carried to the funeral march .
 
Away from the lot and shovels ,
In the cold gloom of oblivion
Treasure wonderful pile of sleep ;
 
In the deep solitude pour Plants
Weary as regret ,
As a mystery , sweet flavor .