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He's so ugly he should have to wear an oxygen mask.

quote by Mickey Rivers
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Right Mask

One night a poem came up to a poet
From now on, it said, you must wear a mask.
What kind of mask? asked the poet.
A rose mask, said the poem.
I've used it already, said the poet,
I've exhausted it.
Then wear the mask that's made out of
a nightingale's song, use that mask.
Oh, it's an old mask, said the poet,
it's all used up.
Nonsense, said the poem, it's the perfect mask,
still, try on the god mask,
now that mask illuminates heaven.
It's a tight mask, said the poet,
and the stars crawl about in it like ants.
Then try on the troubador's mask, or the singer's mask,
try on all the popular masks.
I have, said the poet, but they fit so easily.

The poem was getting impatient,
it stamped its feet like a child,
it screamed. Then try on your own face,
try the one mask that terrifies,
the mask only you could possibly use,
the mask only you could wear out.

The poet tore at his face til it bled,
this mask? he yelled, this mask?
Yes, said the poem, yes.

But the poet was tired of masks,
he had lived too long with them,
he snatched at the poem and stuck it in his face.
Its screams were muffled, it wept, it tried to be lyrical,
it wriggled into his eyes and mouth.

Next day his friends were afraid of him,
he looked so distorted.
Now it's the right mask, said the poem, the right mask.
It clung to him lovingly and never let go again.

poem by Brian Patten
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Mask

You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You look better that way
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You look better that way
Are you my friend ?
Are you my plumber ?
Are you my God ?
What do you do ?
Wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
Complicated crushed up disappointed squirming angry thrusting stabbing regretting starving greedy human alien being, struggling down the street, up the alley, in the elevator, through the party, to the office, in the bedroom, on your way to the morgue. Bullshitting, lying, doing a good deed or feeling loved barely possible. Aware of insatiable demands of not a society all around you. Chunky frat boys in their shorts, pimps with old semite eyes, sex hoochies of the jungle, sensitive smart alec college graduates, critics fronting franticly in New York city, every body in L.A just plain licking ass or having it licked, irony in place of balls, balls in place of brains, brains in place of soul, where is the soul?, where is the love?, where am i?
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
which mask are you ?

song performed by Iggy Pop
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Wear It So Well

All of those things
Yeah, that you got to give
Yeah, you wear it so well
Hey, you wear it so well
All of those stories
Honey, that i know you could tell
Yeah, you wear it so well
And your face hides it so we can't tell
That you knew we would wear it so well
You wear it so well
Yeah darling, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah now baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Hey now darling now, yeah, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
All of those things
That make poets sing
You wear it so well
Yeah, you hide it so well
And all of those pain
That you used to tell
You hide it so well
Can't tell from your face that you knew it so well
Hey, now that you have such a story to tell
Yeah, you got style and grace and you wear it so well
You wear it so well
And you got, you got such a story to tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well
Grace and style equals you so well
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well, well, yeah, so well
Yeah, you wear it, wear it, wear it now, wear it now, baby
Yeah, now you wear it so well
And you got such a story to tell
(ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh)
(ooohhh, you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Drop The Mask

(tim tickner, christopher ward, diana ross)
Look in the mirror, who do you see
Where is the man that you used to be
When you turn off the world and turn down the lights
Do you ever wonder who you are tonight
I knew you then, I love you now
You can call me up when it gets you down
Behind the shades theres someone real
Behind your eyes I wonder how you feel
This is me talking to you
Theres just one thing Im asking you to do
You gotta drop the mask, be yourself
Drop the mask
Trust someone else
No one knows what youre going through
Whatever it is, Ill be there for you
If you drop the mask, be yourself
Drop the mask
Trust someone else
I was there when it all began
I still remember the boy within the man
I understand what it means to run and hide
Theres so much that were holding onto deep down inside
This is me talking to you
The only thing that I want you to do
You gotta drop the mask, be yourself
Drop the mask
Trust someone else
No one knows what youre going through
Whatever it is, Ill be there for you
When you drop the mask, be yourself
Drop the mask
Trust someone else
Drop the mask
Drop the mask
Let down your guard, open your heart
Unlose your chains, dont be afraid
Drop the mask
Be yourself
Be yourself
Trust someone else
You gotta drop the mask
Let down your guard, oh you gotta drop the mask
Trust someone else
You gotta drop the mask

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pretty On The Inside

Slut-kiss girls wont you promise her smack
Is she pretty on the inside
Is she pretty from the back
Slut-kiss girl wont you water her back
Is she pretty on the inside
Baby pretty from the back
Slut-kiss girl well have some rot black strap
Is she ugly on the inside
Baby ugly ugly from the back
My pretty power my pretty power
My pretty power my ugly
Slut-kiss girls wont you promise her smack
Is she pretty on the inside
Is she ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly
Bad boy
Rows and rows of angel hair
And ice cream pencils baby do they care
And fibre yah glass where is she powered that way
Blues and shoes but this isnt ugly
Yah where is it a marriage in a wheel
Will to calls that way
But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone so so many things
Wow hey I made it down
I I i I made it mosh in everyone acid hair
Acid stars youre getting there
Is she high that way
But now its just another show
Your living life as ready go
Its all its all a doll no a doll
Give me a shelf of a whore
Yah now my friends are ugly strange
They shake their heads man
They gave us a trap well
Well send this love as
Rearrange of who of
Baby I lie with pictures now
From riddle love and streets of gold
He says he reach of a candy heart of
I really love it I really dont know
I really dont know I really dont know
I really dont know like I used to live
Yah berry parts and I wow what was it

song performed by Hole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ugly

Crossed the path then I followed your face
It was hard to believe
It was hard to trace
I saw you today
Seems like I see you everyday
But theres something I figured out bout you
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh yeah
So ugly
Im tellin you strait
So ugly
Dont make a mistake
Cause your ugly
You could bet it on the bank
Say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
Your so ugly
All the time
Ugly
You aint no friend of mine
Cause your ugly
You could bet it on the bank
Say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
When you smile or a frown
Im so tired of you bein around
Engaged in some sexual acts
Well Im just gonna have to tell you all the facts
What could that be about,
Well heres a clue
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh yeah
So ugly
Im tellin you strait
So ugly
Dont make a mistake
Cause your ugly
Im tellin you that
I say why why
Why would I lie to you
Why would I lie
Why would I lie
Your so ugly
All the time
Ugly
You aint no friend of mine
Ugly
You could bet it on the bank

[...] Read more

song performed by Violent Femmes
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Young, Dumb & Ugly

We're dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation 'round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we don't return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and don't you give us no lip
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You can't imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin' hell, bendin' the rules just a little
We're livin' only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
We're young... young, dumb and ugly
I'll tell you again
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We're comin' to your town
Yeah, we're young... young, dumb and ugly
We're wild, reckless men, we're on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Danger's in our soul, we're goin' out of control
Swimmin' right after a big heavy meal
We're there wherever trouble's starting
We're rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books 'till they're way overdue
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
You can't stop us
We're young... we're so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
We're young... we're young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Young, Dumb Ugly

Were dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we dont return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and dont you give us no lip
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You cant imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin hell, bendin the rules just a little
Were livin only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
cause were young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
Were young... young, dumb and ugly
Ill tell you again
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
Were comin to your town
Yeah, were young... young, dumb and ugly
Were wild, reckless men, were on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Dangers in our soul, were goin out of control
Swimmin right after a big heavy meal
Were there wherever troubles starting
Were rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books till theyre way overdue
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
You cant stop us
Were young... were so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
Were young... were young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chevy-Chase

The Perse owt off Northombarlonde,
And a vowe to God mayd he
That he wold hunte in the mowntayns
Off Chyviat within days thre,
In the magger of doughte Dogles,
And all that ever with him be.

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat
He sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away:
'Be my feth,' sayd the doughteti Doglas agayn,
'I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.

Then the Perse owt off Banborowe cam,
With him a myghtee meany,
With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone;
The wear chosen owt of shyars thre.

This begane on a Monday at morn,
In Cheviat the hyllys so he;
They chylde may rue that ys un-born,
It wos the mor pitte.

The dryvars thorowe the woodes went,
For to reas the dear;
Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
With ther browd aros cleare.

Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went,
On every syde shear;
Greahondes thorowe the grevis glent,
For to kyll thear dear.

This began in Chyviat the hyls abone,
yerly on a Monnyn-day;
Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.

The blewe a mort uppone the bent,
The semblyde on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the Perse went,
To se the bryttlynge off the deare.

He sayd, 'It was the Doglas promys
This day to met me hear;
But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;'
A great oth the Perse swear.

At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde
Lokyde at his hand full ny;
He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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He's Back

You're with your baby
And you're parked alone
On a summer night
You're deep in love
But you're deeper in the woods
You think you're doin' alright
You heard a voice
Did you see that face
Or was it just a dream
It can't be real
That only happens, babe
On the movie screen
If you see him comin'
Get away if you can
He's a dangerous man
Throws a dangerous party man
He's back
The man behind the mask
And he's out of control
He's back
The man behind the mask
He crawled out of his hole
Just to rock and roll
He's going out tonight
Going to make his rounds to get his fill
Standing staight and tall
He's a ton of fun
And he's dressed to kill
You know you read he was gone
It surely is him
But he's back on the prowl
Again and again and again
Don't you know
He's back
The man behind the mask
And he's out of control
He's back
The man behind the mask
He crawled out of his hole
Just to rock and roll
You know you read he was gone
It surely is him
But he's back on the prowl
Again and again and again
He's back
The man behind the mask
And he's out of control
He's back
The man behind the mask
He crawled out of his hole

[...] Read more

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Masks

Different masks some people wear

Pretending to be true.

They really don't care

If you are sad or blue.

They put on a mask of Friend

And try to let you down.

They are amazingly sad when you are up

And feel so happy when you are down.

Some people wear the mask of Kindness

Which is the most horrible one.

They just kill you without any gun.

They tell you kind words

To relax your vigilance

Looking only for their own conveniance.

And after all they run away

Leaving you alone on a crossway.

There is a mask of Faithfulness

Which sells you as a good

And you live in ignorance like in a dark wood.

There is a mask of Love

That breaks your heart in pieces,

It talks about love without any ceases,

And sounds like a dramatic art

Without any feelings

It waits for your kneelings.

[...] Read more

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Mask That Covers My Pain

I wear a mask,
A mask that covers my pain,
I wear a smile,
A smile to cover my frown,

Secretly I am sad,
No ones here to hold me,
No ones here to love me,
I have no one,

My mask covers the pain in my eyes,
My mask covers the pain in my face,
My mask covers the pain in my heart,
My mask covers the pain in me,

I am but alone,
I am but in pain,
I am the only one,
I put a mask on,
To cover my pain,

poem by Samantha Guinen
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Beneath The Mask

Beneath the mask her wander lies
projecting an image for lovers eyes.
Such endless beauty my eyes behold,
under the mask she wears so bold

She hides behind her vain-full pride,
The twist and turn of storms inside.
She sits so still, so calm a girl
And guards with faith her hidden pearl.

Behold the mask covers her face
For between its cracks lies hidden grace
And beneath that mystic mask of wood
Lies secrets of a love so good

She needs to see through sudden glee
She needs not wear the mask for me.
In her glory I need to bask
For I love the girl who wear the mask.

Beneath the mask
There is a love and compassion
Inhibition and insecurities,
But there is also the girl I love

poem by C.F Francis
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As Ireland Wore the Green

BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?

CHORUS:
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we will wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!

I see the shade of poverty fall on each sunny scene.
And slums and alley-ways extend where fields were evergreen.
There is a law that stamps the flower of freedom as it springs;
And this upon a soil that’s trod by prouder feet than kings’.

And must I hide my colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall I wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland swore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!

Out there beyond the lonely range our fathers toiled for years
’Neath all the hardships that beset true-hearted pioneers;
And our brave mothers journeyed there to do the work of men
On those great awful plains that were unfit for women then.

Then must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we shall wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!

O shall the fields our fathers won be yielded to the few
Who never touched the axe or spade, and hardships never knew?
Shall lordly robbers rule the land and build their mansions high,
And ladies flaunt their jewelled plumes where our brave mothers lie?

O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammnon’s spleen?

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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With Dickens

In Windsor Terrace, number four,
I’ve taken my abode—
A little crescent from the street,
A bight from City Road;
And, hard up and in exile, I
To many fancies yield;
For it was here Micawber lived
And David Copperfield.

A bed, a table, and a chair,
A bottle and a cup.
The landlord’s waiting even now
For something to turn up.
The landlady is spiritless—
They both seem tired of life;
They cannot fight the battle like
Micawber and his wife.

But in the little open space
That lies back from the street,
The same old ancient, shabby clerk
Is sitting on a seat.
The same sad characters go by,
The ragged children play—
And things have very little changed
Since Dickens passed away.

Some seek religion in their grief,
And some for friendship yearn;
Some fly to liquor for relief,
But I to Dickens turn.
I find him ever fresh and new,
His lesson ever plain;
And every line that Dickens wrote
I’ve read and read again.

The tavern’s just across the ‘wye,’
And frowsy women there
Are gossiping and drinking gin,
And twisting up their hair.
And grubby girls go past at times,
And furtive gentry lurk—
I don’t think anyone has died
Since Dickens did his work.

There’s Jingle, Tigg, and Chevy Slyme,
And Weevle—whom you will;
And hard-up virtue proudly slinks
Into the pawnshop still.
Go east a bit from City Road,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Face-mask of Human Beings!

Most human beings wear a mask
To hide their real face in life;
To some this is an easy task;
In modern world, such masks are rife!

Some hide the beast alive within;
Some hide their meek and soft nature;
Some hide their blunders, follies, sin;
Some hide their grief, sorrow, rapture!

Yet, why do people do such things?
– The world is not so trust-worthy;
Our earthly life, more failures brings;
We aim to live a life, ‘mirthy’!

The face reflects one’s expressions;
The eyes are mirrors of the mind;
The mask covers one’s depressions;
No one discerns the truths behind!

The ones who wear a mask for face
Are successful most times on earth;
They’ve changed the contours of the race;
Their complexion seems false from birth!

‘Why should the world know what I feel?
Why should I show my emotions?
To most, the mask is worth the deal;
And works quite well like fine potions! ’

A few really abhor masks;
They live a life on earth, real;
They’re natural in all their tasks;
Their palate loves a genuine meal!

A few may try to read your mind –
But this is not an easy task;
Let face change with what life may bring;
But never wear in life, face-mask!

Our earthly lives has ‘ups and downs’;
In joyful times, we laugh or smile;
When anger fills, we show some frowns;
This is God-destined natural style!

Remove the mask upon your face,
And meet the world with pleasant gaze;
Let face be bright and not a haze;
Thus walk or run in your own pace!

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Oxygen

We all ferment
A face can change but souls stay young
We're all connected
So take a journey with someone
Learn to be as one
Still living, sinking, falling, twisting
But I'm beathing you in
Breathing you in
Oxygen
Oxygen
We all ferment
A taste can change from days so young
You feel rejected Just hold your head up to the sun
Learn to be as one
Still living, sinking, falling
We're still living, drifting
I'm beathing you in
Breathing you in
Still living, sinking, feeding, twisting
I'm living
I'm breathing you in
Breathing you in
Disconnecting
Oxygen
Oxygen
Oxygen
Still living, sinking, falling, twisting
We're still living
I'm breathing you in
Breathing you in
Still living, sinking, falling, drifting
We're living
I'm breathing you in
Breathing you in
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm breathing you in
Breathing you

song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Who’ll Wear the Beaten Colours?

Who’ll wear the beaten colours—and cheer the beaten men?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?

We closed the bars and gambling dens and voted straight and clean,
Our women walked while motor cars were whirling round the scene,
The Potts Point Vote was one for Greed and Ease and Luxury
With all to hold, and coward gold, and beaten folk are we.

Who’ll wear the beaten colours, with hands and pockets clean?
(I wore the beaten colours since I was seventeen)
I wore them up, and wore them down, Outback and across the sea—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?

We wore them back from Ladysmith to where the peace was signed,
And wore them through the London streets where Jingoes howled behind.
We wore them to the Queen’s Hall, while England yelled “Pro-Boers!”
And sat them over victory while London banged the doors.1

We wore them from Port Arthur round till all sunk in the sea—
(Who’ll wear the white man’s colours, and wear them home with me?)
I’ve worn them through with gentlemen, with work-slaves and alone—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, boys, and wear them on his own?

There’s one would look with startled eyes and shrink while I caressed,
Came I not with the colours of the conquered on my breast.
And twenty thousand Bushmen would stand with hands behind
And scorn in all their faces for the coward of his kind.

Who’ll wear the beaten colours and raise the voice they drowned—
It may be when we march again, they’ll bear some other sound—
Who’ll pin the beaten colours on and drive the beaten pen—
It may be other steel and ink when we march out again.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Ugly Truth

The ugly truth, the shadow that wonders alone,
It’s the dark space in the corner of the room where love isn’t shown,
The ignored people whose personality is ignored and unknown,
It’s the face in the mirror that cracks on sight,
The same mirror where society reflects beauty and glamour where self loathing ignites,
Anorexia, plastic surgeries, implants, anabolic steroids, self destruction, and despite,
The natural beauty of humankind destroyed by artificial cosmetics,
Similar to drugs that induces the nonexistent pain from anesthetics,
It’s the poisonous salt induced in self healing known as tartar emetic,
Invisible, pain underlined the surface to project beauty from self destruction inside to route the beauty out,
But the ugly truth is, cosmetics is the bud in plants that doesn’t sprout,
It’s the mirror that humanity looks into every day with doubt,
The doubt that induces perfection from the outside,
It’s the disease inducing shallow emotions from humans worldwide,
Victimized is the people who will never know the pleasure of someday being a groom or bride,
It’s that same cracked mirror that reflects self loathing and the tears we cry,
It’s the anxiety induced from outside the mirror in the room where in the corner we hide,
The smile that is looked as a broken masterpiece from the finest art,
The ugly truth, where beauty from inside the heart is ignored from the start,
It’s the puzzle of human life, where natural beauty of personality is ripped apart,
Embarrassed to be seen by others all they see is broken reflection of self,
In a glass of bottled that they store on the shelf,
Even through glass the reflection stands still where they can see themselves,
Through the smile beyond the face it’s a silent weep of pain and fear,
From the eyes to their ears every night they shed bloody tears,
Not the typical blood made of red matter, it’s the tears bottled up in emotion that’s crystal clear,
The self loathing from the inability to find love, the cause when the end draws near,
Can’t escape the matrix of cosmetic pain, every waking minute outside with others they experience fear,
Unable to identify how to look human, Halloween is every day,
Awaking out of a dream to be perfect, the costume of that beautiful angel in the dream they put on with a closed mind they display,
Where the reality results in a drought in from mixing a blowtorch and hair spray,
The event that causes a ring of fire around the Earth burning everything in sight,
The manifest of when the walls close in, but the mirror stands still cracked but upright,
A masquerade ruined by the drought caused by spite,
The parade rained on by the precipitation of lightning and fire combined,
But forever the broken mirror inside the closing rings stands inclined,
The broken cracks in the same shape as the lightning in the night,
The ugly truth, bottled emotion correlated with the mirror that’s upright
Self esteem is the iron grip that can twist off the top of the bottle,
We dig down deep and can’t project the good inside even with momentum in full throttle,
Even still the personality inside is covered by a towel,
Where the ugly truth lies within an open mind,
The mirror will set fire forever within due time,
And the ugly truth through personality will turn beautiful and shine,
The broken cracked mirror will rebuild itself into a reflection clear like waters in the most beautiful stream,
Our mouths open with the most beautiful voice that we sing,
As opposed to opening the bottle of emotion through hoarse screams,
The same waters that carries the world once set fire moves upstream,
Something as an epiphany is what it seems,
Beauty projected through inner beauty with self esteem it brings,

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poem by Kurt Kacich
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Le Masque (The Mask)

Statue allégorique dans le goût de la Renaissance

Contemplons ce trésor de grâces florentines;
Dans l'ondulation de ce corps musculeux
L'Elégance et la Force abondent, soeurs divines.
Cette femme, morceau vraiment miraculeux,
Divinement robuste, adorablement mince,
Est faite pour trôner sur des lits somptueux
Et charmer les loisirs d'un pontife ou d'un prince.

— Aussi, vois ce souris fin et voluptueux
Où la Fatuité promène son extase;
Ce long regard sournois, langoureux et moqueur;
Ce visage mignard, tout encadré de gaze,
Dont chaque trait nous dit avec un air vainqueur:
«La Volupté m'appelle et l'Amour me couronne!»
À cet être doué de tant de majesté
Vois quel charme excitant la gentillesse donne!
Approchons, et tournons autour de sa beauté.

Ô blasphème de l'art! ô surprise fatale!
La femme au corps divin, promettant le bonheur,Par le haut se termine en monstre bicéphale!

— Mais non! ce n'est qu'un masque, un décor suborneur,
Ce visage éclairé d'une exquise grimace,
Et, regarde, voici, crispée atrocement,
La véritable tête, et la sincère face
Renversée à l'abri de la face qui ment
Pauvre grande beauté! le magnifique fleuve
De tes pleurs aboutit dans mon coeur soucieux
Ton mensonge m'enivre, et mon âme s'abreuve
Aux flots que la Douleur fait jaillir de tes yeux!

— Mais pourquoi pleure-t-elle? Elle, beauté parfaite,
Qui mettrait à ses pieds le genre humain vaincu,
Quel mal mystérieux ronge son flanc d'athlète?

— Elle pleure insensé, parce qu'elle a vécu!
Et parce qu'elle vit! Mais ce qu'elle déplore
Surtout, ce qui la fait frémir jusqu'aux genoux,
C'est que demain, hélas! il faudra vivre encore!
Demain, après-demain et toujours! — comme nous!

The Mask

Allegorical Statue in the Style of the Renaissance

Let us gaze at this gem of Florentine beauty;

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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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