Charles Baudelaire

Sed non satiata -(Unsatisfied Thirst)

Strange deity, brown as the nights
Of musk your perfume, mingled with Havana
Witch-doctor's work, the Faust of the savanna
Ebon-flanked sorceress, child of black midnights.

To fidelity, opium, the night, I prefer
The liquor of your mouth where love dances a pavane
When my desires set out for you in caravan
Your eyes the well at which my troubles drink

From those two great black eyes, the windows of your soul
Oh merciless demon, pour on me fewer flames
I'm not the Styx to kiss you nine times

Alas, and I cannot, libertine Megaera
To break your courage and bring you to bay
In the hell of your bed, become Persephone.

XXXIV.
Since my childhood - the sense of solitude. In spit of my family, above all when surrounded by my comrades - sense of a destiny eternally solitary. Yet a taste for life and for pleasure which is very keen.