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Charles Baudelaire - The Litanies Of SatanCharles Baudelaire - The Litanies Of Satan
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O you, the most knowing, and loveliest of Angels, a god fate betrayed, deprived of praises, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! O, Prince of exile to whom wrong has been done, who, vanquished, always recovers more strongly, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who know everything, king of the underworld, the familiar healer of human distress, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who teach even lepers, accursed pariahs, through love itself the taste for Paradise, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! O you who on Death, your ancient true lover, engendered Hope that lunatic charmer! O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who grant the condemned that calm, proud look that damns a whole people crowding the scaffold, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who know in what corners of envious countries a jealous God hid those stones that are precious, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You whose clear eye knows the deep caches where, buried, the race of metals slumbers, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You whose huge hands hide the precipice, from the sleepwalker on the sky-scraper’s cliff, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who make magically supple the bones of the drunkard, out late, who’s trampled by horses, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who taught us to mix saltpetre with sulphur to console the frail human being who suffers, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who set your mark, o subtle accomplice, on the forehead of Croesus, the vile and pitiless, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! You who set in the hearts and eyes of young girls the cult of the wound, adoration of rags, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! The exile’s staff, the light of invention, confessor to those to be hanged, to conspirators, O Satan, take pity on my long misery! Father, adopting those whom God the Father drove in dark anger from the earthly paradise, O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
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