Текст песни Шарль Бодлер - Цветы зла

Charles Baudelaire - Flowers of Evil
Who sculpted you out of the night darkness,
What native Faust, the devil of the savannah?
You smell like Havana's musk and tobacco
Midnight child, my fatal idol.
No opium, no hops to compete with you
They dare not, my demon: you are the promised land,
Where are the caravans of my woeful desires
They go to the wells of your eyes to drink.
But not the coolness in them - fire, tar and sulfur.
Oh, burn me out, cruel shrew!
Understand, because I am not Styx to order "Chill!"
Embracing you seven times
I am not Proserpine to experience the curse
Burn with you to the ground in the hell of your sheets!