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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354533" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Moon, Offended</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354533" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet,<br>from the blue country’s heights where the bright seraglio,<br>the stars in their sweet dress, go treading after you,<br>my ancient Cynthia, lamp of my retreat,<br>do you see the lovers, in their bed’s happiness<br>showing in sleep their mouths’ cool enamels,<br>the poet bruising his forehead on his troubles,<br>or the vipers coupling under the dry grasses?<br>Under your yellow cloak, with clandestine pacing,<br>do you pass as before, from twilight to morning,<br>to kiss Endymion’s faded grace?<br>- ‘I see your mother, Child of this impoverished century,<br>who, over her mirror, bends a time-worn face,<br>and powders the breast that fed you, skilfully.’</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Charles+Baudelaire">Charles Baudelaire</a></strong></div>

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