{"id":2067,"date":"2010-05-27T00:14:14","date_gmt":"2010-05-26T22:14:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/f.lovisolojob.free.fr\/Blog\/?p=2067"},"modified":"2026-03-09T07:40:12","modified_gmt":"2026-03-09T06:40:12","slug":"charles-baudelaire-une-charogne","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/frank-lovisolo.fr\/WordPress\/charles-baudelaire-une-charogne\/","title":{"rendered":"Charles Baudelaire: Une Charogne"},"content":{"rendered":"Reading Time: <\/span> 5<\/span> minutes<\/span><\/span>
Charles Baudelaire Une Charogne —\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n\n\n\n
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\"ComNoir\"<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n
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–\"-<\/span><\/div>\n
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Composition pour : <\/strong>Guitare, Basse, Cuivres, Orgue Hammond, Batterie.<\/span><\/div>\n

\"Charles<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

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\"Charles<\/strong><\/h3>\n
<\/span>Guest :<\/span> Jo Corbeau, <\/a><\/span>chante, de Charles Baudelaire, Une Charogne<\/a>. \u00a0Jo Corbeau<\/a><\/span><\/em><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h5>\n
(Georges Ohanessian) est n\u00e9 le 1er D\u00e9cembre 1946 \u00e0 Marseille de parents Arm\u00e9niens r\u00e9fugi\u00e9s en France….\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n
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La suite l\u00e0 >>>><\/a> \u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span>Et l\u00e0 >>>>>><\/a> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>Biographie >>>>>><\/a><\/span><\/div>\n
Musique :\u00a0Frank C\u00e9sar\u00a0 Lovisolo<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n\n\n\n
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\"El<\/a>

El caballo muy alegre<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a9 Salvador Dal\u00ed, Fundaci\u00f3 Gala-Salvador Dal\u00ed<\/a>, Figueres, 2017<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

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<\/span>Une Charogne<\/strong><\/span><\/span><\/h5>\n

–<\/span><\/p>\n

Rappelez-vous l’objet que nous v\u00eemes, mon \u00e2me,<\/span>
\nCe beau matin d’\u00e9t\u00e9 si doux :<\/span>
\nAu d\u00e9tour d’un sentier une charogne inf\u00e2me<\/span>
\nSur un lit sem\u00e9 de cailloux,<\/span><\/p>\n

Les jambes en l’air, comme une femme lubrique,<\/span>
\nBr\u00fblante et suant les poisons,<\/span>
\nOuvrait d’une fa\u00e7on nonchalante et cynique<\/span>
\nSon ventre plein d’exhalaisons.<\/span><\/p>\n

Le soleil rayonnait sur cette pourriture,<\/span>
\nComme afin de la cuire \u00e0 point,<\/span>
\nEt de rendre au centuple \u00e0 la grande Nature<\/span>
\nTout ce qu’ensemble elle avait joint ;<\/span><\/p>\n

Et le ciel regardait la carcasse superbe<\/span>
\nComme une fleur s’\u00e9panouir.<\/span>
\nLa puanteur \u00e9tait si forte, que sur l’herbe<\/span>
\nVous cr\u00fbtes vous \u00e9vanouir.<\/span><\/p>\n

Les mouches bourdonnaient sur ce ventre putride,<\/span>
\nD’o\u00f9 sortaient de noirs bataillons<\/span>
\nDe larves, qui coulaient comme un \u00e9pais liquide<\/span>
\nLe long de ces vivants haillons.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tout cela descendait, montait comme une vague,<\/span>
\nOu s’\u00e9lan\u00e7ait en p\u00e9tillant ;<\/span>
\nOn e\u00fbt dit que le corps, enfl\u00e9 d’un souffle vague,<\/span>
\nVivait en se multipliant.<\/span><\/p>\n

Et ce monde rendait une \u00e9trange musique,<\/span>
\nComme l’eau courante et le vent,<\/span>
\nOu le grain qu’un vanneur d’un mouvement rythmique<\/span>
\nAgite et tourne dans son van.<\/span><\/p>\n

Les formes s’effa\u00e7aient et n’\u00e9taient plus qu’un r\u00eave,<\/span>
\nUne \u00e9bauche lente \u00e0 venir,<\/span>
\nSur la toile oubli\u00e9e, et que l’artiste ach\u00e8ve<\/span>
\nSeulement par le souvenir.<\/span><\/p>\n

Derri\u00e8re les rochers une chienne inqui\u00e8te<\/span>
\nNous regardait d’un oeil f\u00e2ch\u00e9,<\/span>
\nEpiant le moment de reprendre au squelette<\/span>
\nLe morceau qu’elle avait l\u00e2ch\u00e9.<\/span><\/p>\n

– Et pourtant vous serez semblable \u00e0 cette ordure,<\/span>
\nA cette horrible infection,<\/span>
\nEtoile de mes yeux, soleil de ma nature,<\/span>
\nVous, mon ange et ma passion !<\/span><\/p>\n

Oui ! telle vous serez, \u00f4 la reine des gr\u00e2ces,<\/span>
\nApr\u00e8s les derniers sacrements,<\/span>
\nQuand vous irez, sous l’herbe et les floraisons grasses,<\/span>
\nMoisir parmi les ossements.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alors, \u00f4 ma beaut\u00e9 ! dites \u00e0 la vermine<\/span>
\nQui vous mangera de baisers,<\/span>
\nQue j’ai gard\u00e9 la forme et l’essence divine<\/span>
\nDe mes amours d\u00e9compos\u00e9s !<\/span><\/p>\n

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Dans \u00ab Une Charogne \u00bb<\/em>, Baudelaire d\u00e9crit \u00e0 sa compagne la vision choquante d\u2019un cadavre en d\u00e9composition rencontr\u00e9 lors d\u2019une promenade. Le po\u00e8te transforme cette sc\u00e8ne sordide en un tableau po\u00e9tique<\/strong>, m\u00ealant horreur et beaut\u00e9.<\/span><\/p>\n

Le contraste entre la laideur de la charogne<\/strong> et la richesse des images po\u00e9tiques<\/strong> permet \u00e0 Baudelaire de montrer que l\u2019art peut sublimer le r\u00e9el<\/strong>, m\u00eame dans ce qu\u2019il a de plus repoussant.<\/span><\/p>\n

Le po\u00e8me a aussi une dimension morale : le po\u00e8te rappelle \u00e0 la femme qu\u2019elle aussi conna\u00eetra la d\u00e9composition, mais que seule la po\u00e9sie pourra la rendre immortelle<\/strong>.<\/span><\/p>\n

L\u2019enjeu essentiel : Baudelaire r\u00e9affirme le pouvoir de la po\u00e9sie, capable de transformer le mal<\/strong>, la mort<\/strong> et la d\u00e9gradation<\/strong> en beaut\u00e9 durable \u2014 id\u00e9e centrale des Fleurs du Mal<\/em>.<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n

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<\/span>A Carrion<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/h5>\n

–<\/span><\/p>\n

Do you remember the thing we saw, my soul,<\/span>
\nThat summer morning, so beautiful, so soft:<\/span>
\nAt a turning in the path, a filthy carrion,<\/span>
\nOn a bed sown with stones,<\/span><\/p>\n

Legs in the air, like a lascivious woman,<\/span>
\nBurning and sweating poisons,<\/span>
\nOpened carelessly, cynically,<\/span>
\nIts great fetid belly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The sun shone on this fester,<\/span>
\nAs though to cook it to a turn,<\/span>
\nAnd to return a hundredfold to great Nature<\/span>
\nWhat she had joined in one;<\/span><\/p>\n

And the sky saw the superb carcass<\/span>
\nOpen like a flower.<\/span>
\nThe stench was so strong, that you might think<\/span>
\nTo swoon away upon the grass.<\/span><\/p>\n

The flies swarmed on that rotten belly,<\/span>
\nWhence came out black battalions<\/span>
\nOf spawn, flowing like a thick liquid<\/span>
\nAlong its living tatters.<\/span><\/p>\n

All this rose and fell like a wave,<\/span>
\nOr rustled in jerks;<\/span>
\nOne would have said that the body, fun of a loose breath,<\/span>
\nLived in this its procreation.<\/span><\/p>\n

And this world gave out a strange music,<\/span>
\nLike flowing water and wind,<\/span>
\nOr a winnower’s grain that he shakes and turns<\/span>
\nWith rhythmical grace in his basket.<\/span><\/p>\n

The forms fade and are no more than a dream, <\/span>
\nA sketch slow to come<\/span>
\nOn the forgotten canvas, and that the artist completes <\/span>
\nOnly by memory.<\/span><\/p>\n

Behind the boulders an anxious bitch<\/span>
\nWatched us with angry eyes,<\/span>
\nSpying the moment to regain in the skeleton <\/span>
\nThe morsel she had dropped.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 And yet you will be like this excrement,<\/span>
\nThis horrible stench,<\/span>
\nO star of my eyes, sun of my being, <\/span>
\nYou, my angel, my passion.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, such you will be, queen of gracefulness, <\/span>
\nAfter the last sacraments,<\/span>
\nWhen you go beneath the grasses and fat flowers,<\/span>
\nMoldering amongst the bones.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, my beauty, say to the vermin<\/span>
\nWhich will eat you with kisses,<\/span>
\nThat I have kept the shape and the divine substance <\/span>
\nOf my decomposed loves!<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Baudelaire<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
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Charles Baudelaire<\/a>\u00a0: Une Charogne\u00a0– caricature, en pied de l’auteur marchant \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d’une charogne par Nadar<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n
<\/a>Charles Baudelaire Une Charogne – Charles Baudelaire Une Charogne – Charles Baudelaire Une Charogne – Charles Baudelaire Une Charogne –<\/span><\/div>\n
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