THE END OF THE DAY
Beneath a thin sun Life writhes without reason Moves shamelessly, runs, Till on the horizon
Comes sensuous night, And as hunger eases Shame takes its flight. The poet says ‘Oh Jesus
My spirits oppress me, My back cries for respite, Through dark dreams enmesh me
I will roll with delight In the curtain of night, Whose shades will refresh me’.
Charles Baudelaire 1821-1867