Spleen

When the low and heavy sky weighs like a lid
On the groaning spirit prey to long annoy
And from the horizon embracing the whole circle
It pours a black day sadder than the nights

When the earth is changed into a damp dungeon
Where Hope, like a bat
Goes beating the walls with her timid wing
And bumping her head against rotten ceilings

When the rain spreading its vast trails
Imitates the bars of a vast prison
And a mute people of infamous spiders
Comes to spread its nets at the bottom of our brains

Bells suddenly leap with fury
And hurl towards the sky a dreadful howl
Like wandering spirits without a homeland
Who begin to moan stubbornly

And long hearses, without drums or music
Slowly parade in my soul; Hope
Defeated, weeps, and the atrocious Anguish, despotic
Plants its black flag on my bowed head

And long hearses, without drums or music
Slowly parade in my soul; Hope
Defeated, weeps