Baudelaire

Invitation to the Voyage by Baudelaire, 19th Century French poet.

Dreams! always dreams!
and the more ambitious and delicate the soul,
the farther dreams remove it from what is possible.
Every man carries within him his dose of natural opium,
incessantly secreted and renewed, and, from birth until death,
how many hours can we count that are filled with positive joy,
with successful and decisive action?
Shall we ever live, shall we ever pass
into that picture painted by my soul,
the picture that resembles you?

Those treasures, that furniture, that luxury, that order,
those perfumes, those miraculous flowers, they are yourself.
So also are those wide rivers and those calm canals...
These are my thoughts which sleep or which roll on your breast.
You guide them softly to the ocean that is Infinity,
while reflecting the depth of the sky
in the limpidity of your pure soul;
and when, wearied by the surge
and gorged with products of the Orient,
they return to their native port,
these are still my thoughts, enriched,
returning from the Infinite towards you.