“Muse of my heart, lover of palaces
When January comes with wind and sleet
During the snowy eve’s long weariness
Will there be fire to warm my violet feet?”
~Charles Baudelaire, taken from The Venal Muse
Born in Paris in 1821, Charles Baudelaire earned an international reputation as a poete maudit (cursed poet) for his personal eccentricities and literary juxtapositions of urban beauty and decay. Writing with an almost other-worldy influence, Baudelaire warned of the fleeting satiety associated with mortal indulgences.
In his poem, The Venal Muse, Baudelaire converses with his heart’s desire–the lurid temptress of fine things–and asks the rhetorical question of whether earthly riches will fulfill him and comfort him in his old age.
Despite knowing the answer, Baudelaire could not keep himself from the excesses of life. In 1862, at the age of 41, he began suffering nightmares and dementia. Sadly, Charles Baudelaire died at the age of 46 in Paris from syphilis. He left behind one of the greatest works of poetry modern literature has ever known.
Apples ripen on the branches in Kimmel Orchard, Nebraska City, NE.
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