英文小诗赏析：Baudelaire's Ablutions
by Roger FanningBaudelaire， dead broke， nonetheless allowed himself two hours for his
morning ablutions. (Warm water can be a narcotic too.)
His razor scraping whiskers cleanly off sounded like a file rassrasping
against prison bars. Never did this man gulp a cup of coffee， bolt out the door
with a blob of shaving cream on one ear， and go to a job. He composed himself.
Dead broke， he explored (in prose) six waterdrops that quake in a corner of
Delacroix's painting Dante and Virgil! Meanwhile， through his window intruded
softly the spiel of a fishmonger as well as the stench. Many， many vendors still
singsong their wares， as a sort of wishwash drizzle inducing human animals to
mope， to yawn. We all get bored： between mainstream culture (buy things) and
nature (in this case， rain)， people tend to snooze. Poetry jolts awake the lucky
few. I praise the mirror-gazing mighty poet Baudelaire，my hero， a fop full of
compulsions，a perfectionist to whom a single tweezered nosehair brought tears of
joy.
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