Caroline Fayette Photography

  • Great woods, you frighten me like cathedrals;

    You roar like the organ; and in our cursed hearts,

    Rooms of endless mourning where old death-rattles sound,

    Respond the echoes of your De profundis.

    I hate you, Ocean! your bounding and your tumult,

    My mind finds them within itself; that bitter laugh

    Of the vanquished man, full of sobs and insults,

    I hear it in the immense laughter of the sea.

    How I would like you, Night! without those stars

    Whose light speaks a language I know!

    For I seek emptiness, darkness, and nudity!

    But the darkness is itself a canvas

    Upon which live, springing from my eyes by thousands,

    Beings with understanding looks, who have vanished.


    Obsession, Charles Baudelaire