The Enemy
My youth has been nothing but a tenebrous storm,
Pierced now and then by rays of brilliant sunshine;
Thunder and rain have wrought so much havoc
That very few ripe fruits remain in my garden.
I have already reached the autumn of the mind,
And I must set to work with the spade and the rake
To gather back the inundated soil
In which the rain digs holes as big as graves.
And who knows whether the new flowers I dream of
Will find in this earth washed bare like the strand,
The mystic aliment that would give them vigor?
Alas! Alas! Time eats away our lives,
And the hidden Enemy who gnaws at our hearts
Grows by drawing strength from the blood we lose!
– Charles Baudelaire
Beautiful imagery here.
I meant to mention, when I first visited, that I like your shot of the Marin Headlands from under the Golden Gate. I’ve spent many a day up in the headlands. It’s gorgeous.
Enjoyed reading The Enemy. The tone and word usage certainly reflect the author’s view of time being an enemy.
Hello! Wonderful poem. Thanks for sharing.
Happy A to Z-ing! from Laura Marcella @ Wavy Lines
Just stopping by for the A-Z Challenge. Please check us out and sign up to follow if you like what you see. Juliet atCity Muse Country Muse
Beautiful … time does eat away our lives.
Silvia @ Silvia Writes