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Baudelaire: SÉPULTURE

If on a heavy and sombre night
A good christian, by charity,
Inters your vaunted body
Behind some old debris,

At the hour when the chaste stars
Close their overburdened eyes,
The spider will make its webs
There, and the viper its young ;

You will hear all year long
Over your condemned head
The lamentable cries of wolves

And of famished witches,
The revels of lubricious old men,
The conspiracies of frauds.