(no subject)
The Stranger by Charles Baudelaire
Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love the best? Your father, or your mother, or your sister, or your brother?
I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
Your friends?
You are using a word whose meaning remains unknown to me to this very day.
Your country?
I do not know under what latitude it lies.
Beauty?
I would love her gladly, goddess and immortal.
Gold?
I hate it as much as you hate God.
Well then! What do you love, extraordinary stranger?
I love the clouds … the passing clouds … over there … over there … the marvelous clouds!
Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love the best? Your father, or your mother, or your sister, or your brother?
I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
Your friends?
You are using a word whose meaning remains unknown to me to this very day.
Your country?
I do not know under what latitude it lies.
Beauty?
I would love her gladly, goddess and immortal.
Gold?
I hate it as much as you hate God.
Well then! What do you love, extraordinary stranger?
I love the clouds … the passing clouds … over there … over there … the marvelous clouds!