Analysis of La Cloche fêlée (The Cracked Bell)
Charles Baudelaire 1821 (Paris) – 1867 (Paris)
II est amer et doux, pendant les nuits d'hiver,
D'écouter, près du feu qui palpite et qui fume,
Les souvenirs lointains lentement s'élever
Au bruit des carillons qui chantent dans la brume.
Bienheureuse la cloche au gosier vigoureux
Qui, malgré sa vieillesse, alerte et bien portante,
Jette fidèlement son cri religieux,
Ainsi qu'un vieux soldat qui veille sous la tente!
Moi, mon âme est fêlée, et lorsqu'en ses ennuis
Elle veut de ses chants peupler l'air froid des nuits,
II arrive souvent que sa voix affaiblie
Semble le râle épais d'un blessé qu'on oublie
Au bord d'un lac de sang, sous un grand tas de morts
Et qui meurt, sans bouger, dans d'immenses efforts.
The Flawed Bell
It is bitter and sweet on winter nights
To listen by the fire that smokes and palpitates,
To distant souvenirs that rise up slowly
At the sound of the chimes that sing in the fog.
Happy is the bell which in spite of age
Is vigilant and healthy, and with lusty throat
Faithfully sounds its religious call,
Like an old soldier watching from his tent!
I, my soul is flawed, and when, a prey to ennui,
She wishes to fill the cold night air with her songs,
It often happens that her weakened voice
Resembles the death rattle of a wounded man,
Forgotten beneath a heap of dead, by a lake of blood,
Who dies without moving, striving desperately.
— Translated by William Aggeler
The Cracked Bell
It's sweet and bitter, of a winter night,
To hear, beside the crackling, smoking log,
Far memories prepare themselves for flight
To carillons that sound amid the fog.
Happy's the bell whose vigorous throat on high,
in spite of time, is sound and still unspent,
To hurl his faithful and religious cry
Like an old soldier watching in his tent.
My soul is cracked, and when amidst its care
It tries with song to fill the frosty air,
Sometimes, its voice seems like the feeble croak
A wounded soldier makes, lost in the smoke,
Beneath a pile of dead, in bloody mire,
Trying, with fearful efforts, to expire.
— Translated by Roy Campbell
The Cracked Bell
Bitter and sweet it is on these long winter nights
To sit before the fire and watch the smoking log
Beat like a heart; and hear our lost, our mute delights
Call with the carillons that ring out in the fog.
What certitude, what health, sounds from that brazen throat,
In spite of age and rust, alert! O happy bell,
Sending into the dark your clear religious note,
Like an old soldier crying through the night, 'All's well!'
I am not thus; my soul is cracked across by care;
Its voice, that once could clang upon this icy air,
Has lost the power, it seems, — comes faintly forth, instead,
As from the rattling throat of a hurt man who lies
Beside a lake of blood, under a heap of dead,
And cannot stir, and in prodigious struggling dies.
— Translated by Edna St. Vincent Millay
La Cloche fêlée
'tis bitter joy, as winter evenings wear
before a smoking hearth which flames aghast,
to hear slow memories mounting from the past,
while church-bells pierce the pall of misty air.
blessèd the flawless bell, of metal rare,
the full-toned bourdon, void of rift and rust,
which like a guardsman faithful to his trust
hurls forth unfailingly its call to prayer!
my soul's a riven bell, that timidly
would fill the frozen night with melody,
but oft it falters, whisperingly weak
as, echoing over lakes of blood, a shriek
muffled by mounds of dead, from one who lies
moveless as they, though struggling till he dies.
— Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks
The Cracked Bell
It is bitter and sweet, during winter nights,
To listen, beside the throbbing, smoking fife,
To distant memories slowly ascending
In the sound of the chimes chanting through the fog.
Blessed the bell with the vigorous gullet
Which, despite old age, watchful and healthy,
Throws out faithfully its pious tones,
Like an old soldier in vigil under his tent!
Ah, my soul is cracked, and when in sorrows
It wishes to people the cold air of the night with its songs,
Often it happens that its feeble voice
Seems like the thick death-rattle of one wounded, forgotten
By the side of a lake of blood, under a great weight of dead,
Who dies, without moving, amongst enormous efforts.
— Translated by Geoffrey Wagner
Scheme | abab cdcd cce ecc e ccef xded gcc xde a E dhdf xdad aai iaa e E chcf dede aad cdc e g adda adda edj jcc c E cxxf dgcd ccc xdc a |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 101101110111 11111111111 10111110 111111111 111111 11111111 111111 1111111111 111011111111 11111111111 10111111 10101111111 1111111111111 111111110 011 1110011101 1101010110100 1100111110 10110111001 1010110111 110001001101 100110101 1111010111 1111101011010 110110111101 1101010101 010011010101 01001011110111 110110101000 0101101 011 1101010101 1101010101 1100010111 11110101 1011100111 0111110101 1111000101 1111010011 1111010111 1111110101 0111110101 0101011001 0101110101 1011010101 0101110 011 100111111101 1101010010101 11010110110101 1101111001 11011111101 011101011101 100101110101 111101010111 111111110111 111111011101 1101011110101 110101101111 010111100111 0101000101001 01011011001 11111 1101110101 0101011101 11110010101 1111011101 1101011101 011111101 110110111 1101001111 1101011100 1101011100 1111011 11001011101 1011111111 1111100111 010110011 011 11100110101 11001010101 11010010010 00110110101 1011010010 1011110010 111001101 111100101011 1111101010 110110011101111 1011011101 11011101110010 101101111001111 1101100101010 01011010 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 4,486 |
Words | 759 |
Sentences | 21 |
Stanzas | 34 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 3, 3, 1, 4, 4, 3, 3, 1, 1, 4, 4, 3, 3, 1, 1, 4, 4, 3, 3, 1, 1, 4, 4, 3, 3, 1, 1, 4, 4, 3, 3, 1 |
Lines Amount | 94 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 97 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 22 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:51 min read
- 173 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"La Cloche fêlée (The Cracked Bell)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/4943/la-cloche-f%C3%AAl%C3%A9e--%28the-cracked-bell%29>.
Discuss this Charles Baudelaire poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In