Great poetry of Charles Pierre Baudelaire
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Travelling Bohemians by Charles Pierre Baudelaire

The prophetic tribe of the ardent eyes

Yesterday they took the road, holding their babies

On their backs, delivering to fierce appetites

The always ready treasure of pendulous breasts.

The men stick their feet out, waving their guns

Alongside the caravan where they tremble together,

Scanning the sky their eyes are weighted down

In mourning for absent chimeras.

At the bottom of his sandy retreat, a cricket

Watched passing, redoubles his song,

Cybele, who loves, adds more flower,

Makes fountains out of rock and blossoms from desert

Opening up before these travelers in a yawn—

A familiar empire, the inscrutable future.

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