| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: | A Beatrice | One day in ashy, cindery terrains, | | 30 | 870 |
| 2: | A Carcass | Remember, my love, the object we saw | | 48 | 818 |
| 3: | A Fantastical Engraving | This freakish ghost has nothing else to wear | | 14 | 706 |
| 4: | A Former Life | Long since, I lived beneath vast porticoes, | | 14 | 848 |
| 5: | A Martyr | Surrounded by flasks, and by spangled lames, | | 60 | 676 |
| 6: | A Phantom | In vaults of fathomless obscurity | | 56 | 703 |
| 7: | A Phantom II: The Perfume | Reader, have you ever breathed deeply, | | 14 | 724 |
| 8: | A Rotting Carcase | My soul, do you remember the object we saw | | 48 | 692 |
| 9: | A Voyage To Cythera | My heart was like a bird that fluttered joyously | | 60 | 682 |
| 10: | Abel And Cain | Race of Abel, sleep and eat; | | 32 | 701 |
| 11: | Afternoon Song | Though your eyebrows surprise, | | 40 | 634 |
| 12: | Alchemy Of Suffering | One's ardour, Nature, makes you bright, | | 14 | 652 |
| 13: | Allegory | Picture a beauty, shoulders rich and fine, | | 20 | 716 |
| 14: | Already! | A hundred times already the sun had leaped, | | 8 | 786 |
| 15: | At One O'Clock In The Morning | Alone at last! Nothing is to be heard but the rattle of a few tardy and tired-out cabs. | | 6 | 725 |
| 16: | Au Lecteur (French) | La sottise, l’erreur, le péché, la lésine, | | 40 | 739 |
| 17: | Autumn Song | Now will we plunge into the frigid dark, | | 28 | 713 |
| 18: | Autumn Sonnet | I hear them say to me, your crystal eyes, | | 14 | 649 |
| 19: | Bad Luck | To roll the rock you fought | | 14 | 674 |
| 20: | Beatrice | Through fields of ash, burnt, without verdure, | | 30 | 603 |
| 21: | Beauty | Am as lovely as a dream in stone, | | 14 | 698 |
| 22: | Benediction | When, by an edict of the powers supreme, | | 76 | 688 |
| 23: | Benediction (French) | Lorsque, par un décret des puissances suprêmes, | | 76 | 641 |
| 24: | Bertha’s Eyes | You can scorn more illustrious eyes, | | 12 | 612 |
| 25: | Beside A Monstrous Jewish Whore I Lay | Beside a monstrous Jewish whore I lay | | 14 | 672 |
| 26: | Bien Loin D'Ici | Ere is the chamber consecrate, | | 14 | 619 |
| 27: | Bohemiens En Voyage (French) | La tribu prophétique aux prunelles ardentes | | 14 | 712 |
| 28: | Burial | If on some woebegone night | | 14 | 667 |
| 29: | Calm | Have patience, O my sorrow, and be still. | | 14 | 723 |
| 30: | Cats | Stiff scholars and the hody amorous | | 14 | 652 |
| 31: | Chacun Sa Chimere (French) | Sous un grand ciel gris, dans une grande plaine poudreuse, sans | | 30 | 683 |
| 32: | Chant D'automne (French) | Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres; | | 28 | 683 |
| 33: | Clouded Sky | One would say your gaze was a misted screen: | | 16 | 638 |
| 34: | Completely One | The Devil and I had a chat | | 24 | 691 |
| 35: | Condemned Women | Like pensive cattle lying on the sands | | 28 | 721 |
| 36: | Condemned Women: Delphine And Hippolyta | Within the dwindling glow of light from languid lamps, | | 104 | 652 |
| 37: | Confession | Once, once only, sweet and lovable woman, | | 40 | 672 |
| 38: | Confession (French) | Une fois, une seule, aimable et douce femme, | | 40 | 694 |
| 39: | Congenial Horror | From this bizarre and livid sky | | 14 | 672 |
| 40: | Contemplation | Hou, O my Grief, be wise and tranquil still, | | 14 | 631 |
| 41: | Conversation | You are a pink and lovely autumn sky! | | 14 | 618 |
| 42: | Correspondences | In Nature's temple living pillars rise, | | 14 | 624 |
| 43: | Danse macabre | Proud, like one living, of her noble height, | | 60 | 643 |
| 44: | Danse Macabre (French) | Fière, autant qu’un vivant, de sa noble stature, | | 60 | 708 |
| 45: | Dawn | Reveille sang its call among the barracks' paths, | | 28 | 694 |
| 46: | Day's End | In evening as the sun goes down | | 14 | 644 |
| 47: | De Profundis Clamavi | I beg your pity, You, my only love; | | 14 | 668 |
| 48: | Deja! (French) | Cent fois déjà le soleil avait jailli, radieux ou attristé, de cette | | 39 | 731 |
| 49: | Destruction | The Fiend is at my side without a rest; | | 14 | 683 |
| 50: | Don Juan In Hades | When Juan sought the subterranean flood, | | 20 | 620 |
| 51: | Draft Epilogue for the Second Edition of Les Fleurs du mal | Tranquil as a sage and gentle as one who’s cursed. I said: | | 33 | 733 |
| 52: | Dream Of A Curious Man | Do you, as I do, know a zesty grief, | | 14 | 705 |
| 53: | Duellum | Two warriors have grappled, and their arms | | 14 | 693 |
| 54: | Dusk | Sweet evening comes, friend of the criminal, | | 38 | 663 |
| 55: | Elevation | Above the ponds, beyond the valleys, | | 20 | 670 |
| 56: | Epilogue | With quiet heart, I climbed the hill, | | 15 | 696 |
| 57: | Evening Twilight | Here’s the criminal’s friend, delightful evening: | | 38 | 656 |
| 58: | Every Man His Chimera | Beneath a broad grey sky, upon a vast and dusty plain devoid of grass, | | 6 | 581 |
| 59: | Exotic Perfume | When with closed eyes in autumn's eves of gold | | 14 | 646 |
| 60: | Far Away from Here | This is the sanctuary where the prettified young lady, | | 14 | 626 |
| 61: | Femmes Damnées | Like pensive cattle, lying on the sands, | | 28 | 584 |
| 62: | For A Creole Lady | Off in a perfumed land bathed gently by the sun, | | 14 | 629 |
| 63: | Fortune | One must have courage as strong | | 14 | 642 |
| 64: | Gaming | In faded chairs, the pale old courtesans, | | 24 | 647 |
| 65: | Gypsies Travelling | That tribe of prophets with the burning eyes | | 14 | 630 |
| 66: | Harmonie Du Soir (French) | Voici venir les temps o vibrant sur sa tige | | 16 | 593 |
| 67: | Harmony Of Evening | Now those days arrive when, stem throbbing, | | 16 | 607 |
| 68: | Head Of Hair | O fleece, billowing even down the neck! | | 35 | 613 |
| 69: | Heautontimoroumenos | I'll strike you without rage or hate | | 28 | 650 |
| 70: | Horreur Sympathique (French) | De ce ciel bizarre et livide, | | 14 | 611 |
| 71: | Hymn | To the too-dear, to the too-beautiful, | | 20 | 749 |
| 72: | Hymn To Beauty | O Beauty! do you visit from the sky | | 28 | 639 |
| 73: | Hymne A La Beaute (French) | Viens-tu du ciel profond ou sors-tu de l’abîme | | | 672 |
| 74: | I Give To You These Verses | I give to you these verses, that if in | | 14 | 635 |
| 75: | I Have Not Forgotten Our Little White Retreat | I have not forgotten our little white retreat | | 10 | 653 |
| 76: | I Love The Naked Ages Long Ago | I love the naked ages long ago | | 40 | 643 |
| 77: | I Love The Thought Of Ancient, Naked Days | I love the thought of ancient, naked days | | 40 | 667 |
| 78: | I Love You As I Love The Night's High Vault | I love you as I love the night's high vault | | 10 | 646 |
| 79: | Il aimait à la voir | It was in her white skirts that he loved to see | | 4 | 635 |
| 80: | Ill-starred | To bear a weight that cannot be borne, | | 14 | 558 |
| 81: | Incompatibility | Higher there, higher, far from the ways, | | 28 | 666 |
| 82: | Intoxication | One must be for ever drunken: that is the sole question of importance. | | 2 | 660 |
| 83: | Invitation To The Voyage | My sister, my child Imagine how sweet | | 42 | 606 |
| 84: | Je n’ai pas oublié, voisine de la ville | I’ve not forgotten, near to the town, | | 10 | 622 |
| 85: | Je t’adore à l’égal de la voûte nocturne | I adore you, the nocturnal vault’s likeness, | | 10 | 666 |
| 86: | L' Albatros (French) | Souvent, pour s’amuser, les hommes d’équipage | | 16 | 659 |
| 87: | La servante au grand coeur dont vous étiez jalouse | The great-hearted servant of whom you were jealous, | | 22 | 626 |
| 88: | Lament Of An Icarus | Lovers of whores don’t care, | | 16 | 659 |
| 89: | Landscape | So as to write my eclogues in the purest verse | | 26 | 639 |
| 90: | Landscape | In order to write my chaste verses I’ll lie | | 26 | 644 |
| 91: | Lesbos | Mother of Roman games and Greek delights, | | 75 | 668 |
| 92: | Letter to Sainte-Beuve | On the old oak benches, more shiny and polished | | 78 | 632 |
| 93: | Litanies Of Satan | O Angel, the most brilliant and most wise, | | 51 | 600 |
| 94: | Man And The Sea | Free man, you'll love the ocean endlessly! | | 16 | 756 |
| 95: | Mist And Rain | Late autumns, winters, spring-times steeped in mud, | | 14 | 640 |
| 96: | Mists And Rains | Autumn's last days, winters and mud-soaked spring | | 14 | 632 |
| 97: | Misty Sky | A vapour seems to hide your face from view; | | 16 | 653 |
| 98: | Moesta Et Errabunda | Agatha, tell me, could your heart take flight | | 30 | 610 |
| 99: | Monologue | You are a lovely autumn sky, rose-clear! | | 14 | 579 |
| 100: | Morning Twilight | Reveille was sounding on barrack-squares, | | 28 | 683 |
| 101: | Music | Music doth uplift me like a sea | | 14 | 767 |
| 102: | My Earlier Life | I've been home a long time among the vast porticos, | | 14 | 627 |
| 103: | N’est ce pas qu’il est doux | Is it not pleasant, now we are tired, | | 6 | 644 |
| 104: | Obsession | Great forests you frighten me, like vast cathedrals: | | 14 | 650 |
| 105: | On Tasso In Prison (Eugène Delacroix’s painting) | The poet in his cell, unkempt and sick, | | 14 | 587 |
| 106: | Owls | Under black yew-trees, in the shade, | | 14 | 683 |
| 107: | Parfum Exotique (French) | Quand, les deux yeux fermés, en un soir chaud d’automne, | | 14 | 651 |
| 108: | Parisian Dream | Of this strange, awe-inspiring scene | | 60 | 633 |
| 109: | Passion And The Skull | Passion sits on the skull Of Humanity, | | 20 | 604 |
| 110: | Poison | Wine can invest the most disgusting hole | | 20 | 684 |
| 111: | Praises For My Francisca | With new chords I'll sing your praises, | | 33 | 567 |
| 112: | Punishment For Pride | When in brave days of old, Theology | | 26 | 646 |
| 113: | Remorse After Death | When, sullen beauty, you will sleep and have | | 14 | 590 |
| 114: | Reversibility | Angel of gaiety, have you tasted grief? | | 25 | 799 |
| 115: | Sed Non Satiata | Singular goddess, brown as night, and wild, | | 14 | 671 |
| 116: | Semper Eadem | You said, there grows within you some strange gloom, | | 14 | 616 |
| 117: | Sisina | Picture Diana decked out for the chase, | | 14 | 747 |
| 118: | Skeletons Digging | In anatomical designs That hang about these dusty quays | | 32 | 641 |
| 119: | Song Of The Afternoon | Although your wayward brows Give you a curious air | | 40 | 631 |
| 120: | Sonnet Of Autumn | They say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes: | | 14 | 712 |
| 121: | Sorrows Of The Moon | The moon tonight dreams vacantly, as if | | 14 | 652 |
| 122: | Spleen | I'm like some king in whose corrupted veins | | 20 | 581 |
| 123: | Spleen | Pluvius, this whole city on his nerves, | | 14 | 580 |
| 124: | Spleen | A giant chest of drawers, stuffed to the full | | 24 | 702 |
| 125: | Spleen | I might as well be king of rainy lands | | 18 | 677 |
| 126: | Spleen | When low and heavy sky weighs like a lid | | 20 | 693 |
| 127: | Spleen I | Pluviôse, irrité contre la ville entière, | | 14 | 583 |
| 128: | Spleen Ii | J’ai plus de souvenirs que si j’avais mille ans. | | 24 | 610 |
| 129: | Spleen Iii | Je suis comme le roi d’un pays pluvieux, | | 18 | 563 |
| 130: | Spleen Iv | Quand le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle | | 20 | 619 |
| 131: | St Peter's Denial | What, then, has God to say of cursing heresies, | | 32 | 596 |
| 132: | Sympathetic Horror | From that sky livid, bizarre | | 14 | 588 |
| 133: | That Kind Heart You Were Jealous Of, My Nurse | That kind heart you were jealous of, my nurse | | 22 | 642 |
| 134: | The Albatross | Often, to amuse themselves, the crew of the ship | | 16 | 625 |
| 135: | The Alchemy of Sadness | One man lights you with his ardour | | 14 | 556 |
| 136: | The Bad Monk | On the great walls of ancient cloisters were nailed | | 14 | 564 |
| 137: | The Balcony | Other of memories, mistress of mistresses, | | 30 | 591 |
| 138: | The Beacons | Ubens, oblivious garden of indolence, | | 44 | 581 |
| 139: | The Blind | Consider them, my soul, they are a fright! | | 14 | 519 |
| 140: | The Cask Of Hate | Hate is the cask of the Danaïdes; | | 14 | 544 |
| 141: | The Cat | Come, my fine cat, to my amorous heart; | | 14 | 676 |
| 142: | The Cat | A cat is strolling through my mind | | 40 | 897 |
| 143: | The Clock | The Clock! a sinister, impassive god | | 24 | 584 |
| 144: | The Confiteor Of The Artist | How penetrating is the end of an autumn day! | | 6 | 561 |
| 145: | The Cracked Bell | How bittersweet it is on winter nights | | 14 | 539 |
| 146: | The Dance Of Death | Carrying bouquet, and handkerchief, and gloves, | | 60 | 524 |
| 147: | The Dancing Serpent | How I adore, dear indolent, Your lovely body, when | | 36 | 733 |
| 148: | The Death Of Artists | How many times must I jingle my little bells | | 14 | 621 |
| 149: | The Death Of Lovers | We will have beds imbued with mildest scent, | | 14 | 568 |
| 150: | The Death Of The Poor | It is death that consoles and allows us to live. | | 14 | 580 |
| 151: | The Desire To Paint | Unhappy perhaps is the man, but happy the artist, | | 8 | 606 |
| 152: | The Digging Skeleton | In the anatomical plates | | 32 | 532 |
| 153: | The Double Chamber | A chamber that is like a reverie; a chamber truly spiritual, | | 23 | 574 |
| 154: | The Elevation | Above the valleys, over rills and meres, | | 20 | 581 |
| 155: | The Enemy | My youth was nothing but a black storm | | 14 | 542 |
| 156: | The Evil Monk | The ancient cloisters on their lofty walls | | 14 | 573 |
| 157: | The Eyes Of Beauty | You are a sky of autumn, pale and rose; | | 14 | 585 |
| 158: | The Flask | There are some powerful odours that can pass | | 28 | 588 |
| 159: | The Flawed Bell | It’s bitter, yet sweet, on wintry nights, | | 14 | 564 |
| 160: | The Fountain Of Blood | Sometimes it seems my blood spurts out in gobs | | 14 | 645 |
| 161: | The Game | Old courtesans in washed-out armchairs, | | 24 | 527 |
| 162: | The Ghost | Softly as brown-eyed Angels rove | | 14 | 632 |
| 163: | The Giantess | In times when madcap Nature in her verve | | 14 | 596 |
| 164: | The Gifts Of The Moon | The Moon, who is caprice itself, looked in at the window as you slept in your cradle, and said to herself: | | 8 | 627 |
| 165: | The Glass-Vendor | There are some natures purely contemplative and antipathetic to action, | | 16 | 528 |
| 166: | The Happy Corpse | In a rich land, fertile, replete with snails | | 14 | 578 |
| 167: | The Harmony Of Evening | Now it is nearly time when, quivering on its stem, | | 16 | 540 |
| 168: | The Head Of Hair | O fleece, billowing down to the shoulders! | | 35 | 584 |
| 169: | The Ideal | It will not be these beauties of vignettes, | | 14 | 618 |
| 170: | The Inquisitive Man’s Dream | Do you know, as I do, delicious sadness | | 14 | 525 |
| 171: | The Invitation To The Voyage | It is a superb land, a country of Cockaigne, | | 13 | 598 |
| 172: | The Irremediable | A Being, a Form, an Idea Having fallen from out of the blue | | 40 | 1092 |
| 173: | The Irreparable | Can we suppress the old Remorse | | 50 | 540 |
| 174: | The Irreparable | How can we kill the long, the old Remorse | | 50 | 539 |
| 175: | The Jewels | My sweetheart was naked, knowing my desire, | | 32 | 782 |
| 176: | The Lid | Whatever place he goes, on land or sea, | | 14 | 523 |
| 177: | The Litanies Of Satan | O you, the most knowing, and loveliest of Angels, | | 45 | 544 |
| 178: | The Little Old Women | In sinuous coils of the old capitals | | 84 | 505 |
| 179: | The Living Flame | They pass before me, these Eyes full of light, | | 14 | 563 |
| 180: | The Living Torch | They march ahead, those brilliant Eyes in you | | 14 | 576 |
| 181: | The Love Of Illusion | When I watch you go by, in all your indolence, | | 24 | 595 |
| 182: | The Lovers' Wine | This morning how grand is the space! | | 14 | 560 |
| 183: | The Marksman | As the carriage traversed the wood he bade the driver draw up in the | | 6 | 561 |
| 184: | The Mask | Let us observe this prize, of Tuscan charm; | | 36 | 628 |
| 185: | The Metamorphoses Of The Vampire | Twisting and writhing like a snake on fiery sands, | | 28 | 577 |
| 186: | The Moon, Offended | Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet, | | 14 | 583 |
| 187: | The Murderer's Wine | My wife is dead and I am free! | | 52 | 580 |
| 188: | The Owls | Under the overhanging yews, | | 14 | 640 |
| 189: | The Pipe | I am a writer's pipe; you see | | 14 | 561 |
| 190: | The Poison | Wine can clothe the most sordid hole | | 20 | 524 |
| 191: | The Possessed | The sun is wrapped within a pall of mist, | | 14 | 574 |
| 192: | The Ragman's Wine | Often, beneath a street lamp's reddish light, | | 32 | 794 |
| 193: | The Ransom | Man, with which to pay his ransom, | | 16 | 515 |
| 194: | The Remorse Of The Dead | O shadowy Beauty mine, when thou shalt sleep | | 14 | 560 |
| 195: | The Sadness Of The Moon | The Moon more indolently dreams to-night | | 14 | 686 |
| 196: | The Seven Old Man | City of swarming, city full of dreams | | 52 | 544 |
| 197: | The Seven Old Men | O swarming city, city full of dreams, | | 59 | 563 |
| 198: | The Seven Old Men | Ant-like city, city full of dreams, | | 52 | 568 |
| 199: | The Shooting-Range And The Cemetery. | Cemetery View Inn" "A queer sign," said our traveller to himself; | | 5 | 616 |
| 200: | The Sick Muse | Poor Muse, alas, what ails thee, then, to-day? | | 14 | 588 |
| 201: | The Sky | Where'er he be, on water or on land, | | 14 | 607 |
| 202: | The Snake That Dances | How I love to watch, dear indolence, | | 36 | 561 |
| 203: | The Solitary's Wine | A handsome woman's tantalizing gaze | | 14 | 581 |
| 204: | The Soul Of Wine | One night, from bottles, sang the soul of wine: | | 24 | 648 |
| 205: | The Spiritual Dawn | When white and ruby dawn among the rakes | | 14 | 678 |
| 206: | The Splendid Ship | O soft enchantress, let me tell the truth | | 40 | 571 |
| 207: | The Stranger | Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love best? Your father, your mother, your sister, or your brother? | | 12 | 583 |
| 208: | The Sun | Through all the district's length, where from the shacks | | 20 | 715 |
| 209: | The Sunset Of Romanticism | How beautiful a new sun is when it rises, | | 14 | 605 |
| 210: | The Swan | Andromache, I think of you! The stream, | | 57 | 887 |
| 211: | The Taste For Nothingness | Dull soul, to whom the battle once was sweet, | | 15 | 581 |
| 212: | The Temptation | The Demon, in my chamber high, | | 24 | 602 |
| 213: | The Thyrsus - To Franz Liszt | What is a thyrsus? According to the moral and poetical sense, | | 6 | 646 |
| 214: | The Two Good Sisters | Debauch and Death are a fine, healthy pair | | 14 | 587 |
| 215: | The Vampyre | You invaded my sorrowful heart | | 16 | 643 |
| 216: | The Venal Muse | Muse of my heart, lover of palaces, | | 14 | 579 |
| 217: | The Voice | I was the height of a folio, my bed just | | 28 | 619 |
| 218: | The Void | Pascal had his Void that went with him day and night. | | 14 | 610 |
| 219: | The Warner | Every man worth the name | | 14 | 532 |
| 220: | The Way Her Silky Garments Undulate | The way her silky garments undulate | | 14 | 587 |
| 221: | The Widows | Vauvenargues says that in public gardens there are alleys haunted principally by thwarted ambition, | | 16 | 579 |
| 222: | The Wretched Monk | Old monasteries under steadfast walls | | 14 | 579 |
| 223: | To A Brown Beggar-Maid | White maiden with the russet hair, | | 56 | 590 |
| 224: | To A Creole Lady | In a perfumed land caressed by the sun | | 14 | 525 |
| 225: | To A Madonna | Madonna, mistress, I would build for thee | | 46 | 534 |
| 226: | To A Red-Haired Beggar Girl | Pale girl with russet hair, Tatters in what you wear | | 56 | 544 |
| 227: | To A Woman Of Malabar | Your feet are as slender as hands, your hips, to me, | | 28 | 517 |
| 228: | To A Woman Passing By | Around me roared the nearly deafening street. | | 14 | 633 |
| 229: | To She Who Is Too Light-Hearted | Your head, your gesture, your air, | | 36 | 561 |
| 230: | To the Reader | Stupidity and error, avarice and vice, | | 40 | 558 |
| 231: | Venus And The Fool | How admirable the day! The vast park swoons beneath the burning eye of the sun, | | 8 | 611 |
| 232: | Voyaging | The wide-eyed child in love with maps and plans | | 146 | 646 |
| 233: | Wandering Gypsies | The prophetic tribe with burning eyes | | 14 | 602 |
| 234: | What Is Truth? | I once knew a certain Benedicta whose presence filled the air with the ideal | | 5 | 577 |
| 235: | What Will You Say Tonight, Poor Lonely Soul | What will you say tonight, poor lonely soul, | | 14 | 618 |
| 236: | You'd Entertain The Universe In Bed | You'd entertain the universe in bed, | | | 624 |
