Ô toi, le plus savant et le plus beau des Anges, Dieu trahi par le sort et privé de louanges, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Ô Prince de l'exil, à qui l'on a fait tort, Et qui, vaincu, toujours te redresses plus fort, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui sais tout, grand roi des choses souterraines, [Aimable médecin]1 des angoisses humaines, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui, même aux [parias]2, aux [animaux]3 maudits, Enseignes par l'amour le goût du Paradis, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Ô toi, qui de la Mort, ta vieille et forte amante, Engendras l'Espérance, — une folle charmante ! Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui [peux octroyer]4 ce regard calme et haut Qui damne tout un peuple autour d'un échafaud, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui sais en quels coins des terres envieuses Le Dieu jaloux cacha les pierres précieuses, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi dont l'œil clair connaît les profonds arsenaux Où dort enseveli le peuple des métaux, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi dont la large main cache les précipices Au somnambule errant au bord des édifices, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi [qui frottes de baume et d'huile]5 les vieux os De l'ivrogne attardé foulé par les chevaux, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui, pour consoler l'homme frêle qui souffre, Nous appris à mêler le salpêtre et le soufre, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui [mets ton paraphe]6, ô complice subtil, Sur le front du [banquier]7 impitoyable et vil, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Toi qui mets dans les yeux et dans le cœur des filles Le culte de la plaie et l'amour des guenilles ! Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Bâton des exilés, lampe des inventeurs, Confesseur des pendus et des conspirateurs, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Père adoptif de ceux qu'en sa noire colère Du paradis terrestre a chassés Dieu le Père, Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère ! Gloire et louange à toi, Satan, dans les hauteurs Du Ciel, où tu régnas, et dans les profondeurs De l'Enfer où, [fécond, tu couves le]8 silence ! Fais que mon âme un jour, sous l'Arbre de Science, Près de toi se repose, à l'heure où sur ton front Comme un Temple nouveau ses rameaux s'épandront !
The Litanies of Satan
Set by Miriam Gideon (1906 - 1996), "The Litanies of Satan", 1963 [ soprano, tenor, flute, bassoon, string quartet ], from The condemned playground, no. 3, sections of French and English are used in this setting [sung text not yet checked]
Note: this setting is made up of several separate texts.
Text Authorship:
- by Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867), "Les Litanies de Satan", appears in Les Fleurs du mal, in 5. Révolte, no. 120, Paris: Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, first published 1857
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Haasz) , "Litanie Satanovy"
- ENG English (Edna St. Vincent Millay) , "The Litanies of Satan", appears in Flowers of Evil, first published 1936
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (Tamás Rédey) , "Litánia", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal, Paris: Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, 1857, in Révolte, pages 222-225. Also confirmed with Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal, Paris: Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, 1861, in Révolte, pages 288-291. Also confirmed with Charles Baudelaire, Œuvres complètes de Charles Baudelaire, vol. I : Les Fleurs du mal, Paris: Michel Lévy frères, 1868, in Révolte, pages 332-335. Punctuation follows the 1857 edition. Note: this was number 92 in the first edition of Les Fleurs du mal but number 120 or 145 in subsequent editions.
1 1861 and 1868 editions: "Guérisseur familier"2 1861 and 1868 editions: "lépreux"
3 1861 and 1868 editions: "parias"
4 1861 and 1868 editions: "fais au proscrit"
5 1861 and 1868 editions: "qui, magiquement, assouplis"
6 1861 and 1868 editions: "poses ta marque"
7 1861 and 1868 editions: "Crésus"
8 1861 and 1868 editions: "vaincu, tu rêves en"
The final six lines of the poem are separated by the heading "Prière" the 1861 and 1868 editions; this heading does not appear in the 1857 edition.
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Poom Andrew Pipatjarasgit [Guest Editor]
O thou, of all the Angels loveliest and most learned, To whom no praise is chanted and no incense burned, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O Prince of exile, god betrayed by foulest wrong, Thou that in vain art vanquished, rising up more strong, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O thou who knowest all, each weak and shameful thing, Kind minister to man in anguish, mighty king, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou that dost teach the leper, the pariah we despise, To love like other men, and taste sweet Paradise, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O thou, that in the womb of Death, thy fecund mate, Engenderest Hope, with her sweet eyes and her mad gait, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou who upon the scaffold dost give that calm and proud Demeanor to the felon, which condemns the crowd, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou that hast seen in darkness and canst bring to light The gems a jealous God has hidden from our sight, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou to whom all the secret arsenals are known Where iron, where gold and silver, slumber, locked in stone, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou whose broad hand dost hide the precipice from him Who, barefoot, in his sleep, walks on the building's rim, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O thou who makest supple between the horses' feet The old bones of the drunkard fallen in the street, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou who best taught the frail and over-burdened mind How easily saltpeter and sulphur are combined, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Thou that hast burned thy brand beyond all help secure, Into the rich man's brow, who tramples on the poor, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O thou, who makest gentle the eyes and hearts of whores With kindness for the wretched, homage for rags and sores, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Staff of the exile, lamp of the inventor, last Priest of the man about whose neck the rope is passed, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! O thou, adopted father of those fatherless Whom God from Eden thrust in terror and nakedness, Satan, have pity upon me in my deep distress! Prayer Glory and praise to thee, Satan, in the most high, Where thou didst reign; and in deep hell's obscurity, Where, manacled, thou broodest long! O silent power, Grant that my soul be near to thee in thy great hour, When, like a living Temple, victorious bough on bough, Shall rise the Tree of Knowledge, whose roots are in thy brow!
Text Authorship:
- by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950), "The Litanies of Satan", appears in Flowers of Evil, first published 1936
Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867), "Les Litanies de Satan", appears in Les Fleurs du mal, in 5. Révolte, no. 120, Paris: Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, first published 1857
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Author(s): Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950), Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867)