“The Vampire” (A Poem)

Originally published is his collection of poetry Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil) in 1857, Charles Baudelaire’s poem “Le Vampire” uses the vampire as a metaphor for love, with the narrator tormented by his beloved, who has – like alcohol to a drunkard or dice to a gambler – ensnared the narrator in their unbreakable spell. Although there are numerous translations of the poem, I have chosen Roy Campbell’s for its strong rhyme scheme and clean line length.

You, who like a dagger ploughed 
Into my heart with deadly thrill:
You who, stronger than a crowd
Of demons, mad, and dressed to kill,

Of my dejected soul have made
Your bed, your lodging, and domain:
To whom I’m linked (Unseemly jade!)
As is a convict to his chain,

Or as the gamester to his dice,
Or as the drunkard to his dram,
Or as the carrion to its lice —
I curse you. Would my curse could damn!

I have besought the sudden blade
To win for me my freedom back.
Perfidious poison I have prayed
To help my cowardice. Alack!

Both poison and the sword disdained
My cowardice, and seemed to say
“You are not fit to be unchained
From your damned servitude. Away,

You imbecile! since if from her empire
We were to liberate the slave,
You’d raise the carrion of your vampire,
By your own kisses, from the grave.”[1]

Works Referenced 

Baudelaire, Charles. “Le Vampire.” Les Fleurs du mal. 1857. Trans. Roy Campell. London: The Harvell Press, 1922. 41-42. 
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[1] Baudelaire, 41-42.