THE ABSINTHEURS POETRY COLLECTION

Collected by: The Psychedelic Fairy Team

The Psychedelic Fairy2012

Contents
Antoni Deschamps .................................................................................................................................. 3 Raoul Ponchon ........................................................................................................................................ 4 Charles Pierre Baudelaire...................................................................................................................... 13 August Strindberg ................................................................................................................................. 16 Arthur Rimbaud .................................................................................................................................... 21 Ernest Dowson ...................................................................................................................................... 23 Alphonse Allais ...................................................................................................................................... 25 Aleister Crowley .................................................................................................................................... 27 Charles Cros .......................................................................................................................................... 29 Donald Evans......................................................................................................................................... 32 Glen MacDonough ................................................................................................................................ 33 Maurice Rollinat .................................................................................................................................... 36 Albert Giraud......................................................................................................................................... 38 Guillaume Apollinaire ........................................................................................................................... 40 Alfred de Musset ................................................................................................................................... 42 Charles Monselet .................................................................................................................................. 44 Arthur William Symons ......................................................................................................................... 46 Paul Verlaine ......................................................................................................................................... 47 Gustave Kahn ........................................................................................................................................ 49 Joyce Kilmer .......................................................................................................................................... 50 Emily Dickinson ..................................................................................................................................... 52 Paul Valry ............................................................................................................................................ 53 Carl Daniel Fllstrm ............................................................................................................................. 55 Octave Fr and Jules Cuvain ............................................................................................................... 57 Oscar Wilde ........................................................................................................................................... 60 Jrme Douce ....................................................................................................................................... 62 Closing words - The story of the Absinthe poem collection ................................................................. 64 Bibliography .......................................................................................................................................... 65 List of reproductions ............................................................................................................................ 67

Antoni Deschamps
Alfred Tattet

AdversusAbsynthium (A l'encontre de l'absinthe)

Absynthe, monstre n jadis pour notre perte De lAfrique Paris tranant ta robe verte Comment donc as-tu pu sous le soleil oser Souiller ses lvres dor de ton cre baiser Vile prostitue en tes temples assise Tu te vends lesprit ainsi qu' la sottise Et ne fais nul souci aux adieux, laurier Qui couvre le Pote ainsi que le guerrier Hlas ! navait-il pas assez de lamertume A laquelle en vivant tout grand cur saccoutume Aussi que leau du ciel ...... Quil ne reste plus rien de ton amer poison O monstre sois maudit, je te jette la face Les imprcations de Tibulle et dHorace Et contre toi jvoque en mon sein irrit La langue que parlait la belle antiquit. Fontainebleau, aot 1847.1

http://www.museeabsinthe.com/absintheLIVRES8.html

Raoul Ponchon born in December 30, 1848 in NapolonVende (now La Roche-sur-Yon), died December 3, 1937 in Paris, was a French writer, poet, and painter. Originally a bank employee, he quit his job after his father's death in 1871, and set himself up at the age of 23 in a garret with the words "Painter and Lyrical Poet" written on the door. He would take his breakfast in the Caf de Cluny, then return at 5pm for L'Heure Verte. The rest of the day he spent holding court at various other cafs. Ponchon was astonishingly prolific, writing 150 000 verses, of which over 7000 were about food and drink, including many dealing specifically with absinthe.

Sonnet de lAbsinthe - (Le Courrier Franais 24 oct 1886)

Absinthe, ma liqueur alerte, Il me semble quand je te bois Boire lme des jeunes bois Pendant la belle saison verte. Ton frais parfum me dconcerte Et dans ton opale je vois Des cieux habits autrefois Comme par une porte ouverte. Quimporte, recours des maudits, Que tu sois un vain paradis, Sit tu contentes mon envie; Et si, devant que jentre au port, Tu me fais supporter la vie, En mhabituant la mort. (English translation) Absinthe, O my lively liquor, It seems, when I drink you I inhale the young forests soul During the beautiful green season. Your perfume disconcerts me And in your opalescence I see the full heavens of yore, As through an open gate.
4

What matter, O refuge of the damned, That you a vain paradise be, If you appease my need; And if, before I enter the gate, You make me put up with life, By accustoming me to death.2

Five Oclock Absinthe

Quand le couchant tend son voile d'hyacinthe Sur Rastaquapolis. C'est l'heure assurment de prendre son absinthe, Qu'en penses-tu, mon fils? C'est en t surtout, quand la soif vous terrasse Tels cent Dreyfous bavards Qu'il convient de chercher une frache terrasse Le long des boulevards. O l'on sait rencontrer l'absinthe la meilleure. Celle du fils Pernod; Fi des autres ! De mme un dize est un leurre Quand il est de Gounod. Je dis le long des boulevards, et non Rome, Ni chez les Bonivards; Carpour tre absinthier on n'en est pas moins homme. Et sur nos boulevards On voit passer les plus suaves cratures Aux plus gentes faons : Tout en buvant, cela rveille vos natures, C'est exquis... mais passons. Vous avez votre absinthe, il s'agit de la faire; a n'est pas, croyez-moi, Comme pense un vain peuple, une petite affaire, Banale et sans moi. Il ne faut pas avoir ailleurs l'me occupe, Pour le moment du moins. L'absinthe veut d'abord de la belle eau frappe, Les dieux m'en soient tmoins
2

http://www.oxygenee.com

D'eau tide, il n'en faut pas : Jupiter la condamne. Toi-mme, qu'en dis-tu ? Autant vaudrait, ma foi, boire du pissat d'ne Ou du bouillon pointu. Et n'allez pas comme un qui serait du Hanovre, Surtout me l'effrayer, Avec votre carafe, elle croirait, la povre ! Que l'on la veut noyer. Dridez-la toujours d'une premire goutte... L... l... tout doucement. Vous la verrez alors palpiter, vibrer toute, Sourire ingnment; Il faut que l'eau lui soit ainsi qu'une rose, Tenez-vous-le pour dit : N'veillerez les sucs dont elle est compose Que petit petit. Telle une jeune pouse hsite et s'effarouche Quand, la premire nuit, Son mari brusquement l'envahit sur sa couche En ne pensant qu' lui... Mais, tenez : votre absinthe clot dans l'intervalle, La voil qui fleurit, S'irise et passe par tous les tons de l'opale Avec un rare esprit. Vous pouvez maintenant la humer, elle est faite; Et la chre liqueur A l'instant mme vous mettra la joie en tte Et l'indulgence au coeur... (English translation) When sundown spreads its hyacinth veil Over Rastaquapolis Its surely time for an absinthe Dont you think, my son? Its especially in summer, when thirst wears you down - Like a hundred Dreyfus gossips 6

That its fitting to seek a fresh terrace Along the boulevards Where one finds the best absinthe That of the sons of Pernod Forget the rest! Theyre like a sharp by Gounod: mere illusion. I say along the boulevards, and not in Rome, Nor at the home of the Bonivards; To be an absinthier is not to be any less a man. And on our boulevards One sees pass the sweetest creatures With the gentlest manners: Youre drinking, they rouse your nature, They are exquisite... but let it pass. You have your absinthe, its all about preparation This is not, believe me, As the cynics think, a small matter Banal and without emotion The heart should not be elsewhere For the moment at least. Absinthe wants first, beautiful ice water The gods are my witness! Tepid water, none of that: Jupiter condemns it. Yourself, what say you? Might as well, my faith, drink donkey piss Or enema broth And dont come on like a German, And scare her, With your carafe; she would think, poor dear! That you want to drown her. Always rouse her from the first drop Like so ... and so ... very gently Then behold her quiver, all vibrant With an innocent smile; Water must be for her like dew, You must be certain about that: Awaken the juices of which she is made Only little by little.

Such as a young wife hesitates, startled When, on her wedding night, Her husband brusquely invades her bed Thinking only of himself... But wait: your absinthe has bloomed in the meantime, See how she flowers, Iridescent, passing through every shade of the opal With a rare spirit. You may sniff now, she is made; And the beloved liquor In the same instant brings joy to your head And indulgence to your heart 3

LABSINTHE ET LE COBAYE
A Paul Mounet M Bordas, rout-chef du laboratoire municipal, injcle dix centimtres cube d'absinlbe un cobaye, pour dmontrer la toxicit mortelle de ce breuvage.

Dix centimtres ! quelle cuite ! Pourquoi pas trente, tout de suite? Pauvre cobaye! dont la fin Est de servir l'exprience De ces messieurs de la science. Avec son frre le lapin. Mais, savant, que je respecte, Sache bien que je m'en injecte Relativement moins. Ainsi, C'est donc comme si moi bltre, Il me fallait en boire un litre. Dans une sance... Merci!

Moi, ces dix centimtres cube D'absinthe jets dans mon tube,
3

http://www.oxygenee.com

Je puis hardiment les braver, Sans mme hsiter sur ma tige, Mais ce n'est pas un tel prodige Qu'un cobaye en puisse crever. En outre, que prouve la chose ! Pour ce petit cochon en cause, Pas plus gros en tout que le poing L'absinthe, idiosyncrasique, Peut tre infiniment toxique, Pour moi, ne l'tre du tout point. Chacun, comme il le peut, s'en tire. Ne me suis-je pas laiss dire Par exemple, que le persil, Qui m'est moi fort salutaire, tait au perroquet contraire, Tout autant qu'un coup de fusil ? De mme mon gosier se cabre, Quand je veux avaler un sabre, Tandis que j'ai vu, chez Barnum, Je ne sais quelle crature Dont c'est l'ordinaire pture. Que voulez-vous?... cuiquesuum.4

L'ABSINTHE DU MORT
A Georjges Hugo. A Madagascar, il est d'tuage de continuer nourrir lesdfuntsau del du trpas. A celui qui a t ivrogne, sa veuve considre comme un devoir de lui apporter sa boisson favorite Lectures de la femme.

Dieu ! que la France est vaine Auprs de ces pays! Et je comprends sans peine Qu'on les ait envahis. Les moeurs et les usages Y sont cent fois plus sages Que chez nous, Blancs -Visages,
4

Raoul Ponchon, La Muse au Cabaret, BIBLIOTHQUE-CHARPENTIER, EUGENE FASQUELLE, CITEUR, 1920, Paris, p. 199 http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k74840t.r=Raoul+Ponchon%2C+La+Muse+au+Cabaret.langEN

Qu'ils noniment les Oui-ouis. L-bas, le mariage Me parait, ds l'abord, Offrir un avantage. Et que je prise fort : La loi sy trouvant telle, Que ma femme fidle Si je meurs avant elle Doit me nourrir encor ! Bien mieux, si la biture Est mon lger dfaut , Ma seconde nature, Elle doit il le faut Bien loin qu'elle svisse. Mettre tout son office A respecter mon vice Par del le tombeau. Chez nous, c'est un calvaire : Pour un verre de trop, La femme vocifre, Glapit comme un blaireau; Elle peste, elle rogne, Vous traite de carogne, D'enfant de la Pologne, Et de fleur de bistro. Tandis, l-bas macache ! Que si je suis nanti D'une pouse malgache, Elle ne m'abrutit. Je puis boire sans phrase, Et sans qu'elle me rase, Et voyez cette occase ! Mme une fois parti ! Je suis donc mort. Ma veuve Inconsolable, au lieu De pleurer comme un fleuve, M'apporte, grce Dieu ! De son pas le plus vite, Ma boisson favorite, Qui bien plus me profite Que ses pleurs... Croyez-le !
10

Ainsi, quand le jour tombe, Je la vois, jeune Hb, Dposer dans ma tombe Un vieux Pernod frapp ; Et je me crois encore, Assis humble pcore. Que le Nant dcore, A l'ombre d'un caf.5

AU CABARET
Celui qui ne sait pas tirer profil du premier objet qui lui tombe ou les yeux, n'a pas un atome d'intelligence Edison.

Ed lisant les ci-dessus lignes. Je pensai : voil du chiqu : D'autre part, Edison les signe, Qui HP passe pas pour toqu. Je ne le crois pas davantage Un farceur, un mauvais plaisant, Un vieillard fou de radotage... Quoi qu'il en soit, essayons-en. tant donn son axiome, Je dis en mon for : Voyons voir Si je jouis du moindre atome D'intelligence. Il faut savoir. Or, je puis le dire sans feinte, Au mme instant, j'tais camp Par hasard, devant une absinthe, D'aventure dans un caf, A l'heure ole soleil dcline. Ainsi donc, le premier objet tait cette absinthe opaline. Que mon regard interrogeait ; Dans l'espoir qu'il me viendrait d'elle, Une ide, un clair subit Qui m'activerait la cervelle Et dont je tirerais profit.

Ibid, p. 204

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Je l'avais encor mnage, Mais tel n'tait point mon projet ; Et je la bus d'une gorge. Pour tre plein de mon sujet. Sans doute elle tait trop lgre, Car je restai comme devant, Aprs avoir vid mon verre, En dpit de notre savant. Alors, jen pris une seconde Vous eussiez dit des pois casss ; Elle ne fut pas plus fconde En solutions, vous pensez!... Je devins un peu plus loquace, Et plus agit, voil tout; Je bavardai comme une agace, Et pour ne rien dire, surtout... Nimporte, bourreau de science. Rare et merveilleux Edison ! Cette dernire exprience Te donne absolument raison : On doit, pour peu qu'on y mdite, Tirer profil de tout, c'est sr : Ainsi, cette absinthe maudite. J'aurai toujours profit sur ...6

ibid, p. 207

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Charles Pierre Baudelaire (1821-1867) was a

French poet who produced notable work as an essayist, art critic, and pioneering translator of Edgar Allan Poe. His most famous work, Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil), expresses the changing nature of beauty in modern, industrializing Paris during the 19th century. Baudelaire's highly original style of prosepoetry influenced a whole generation of poets including Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud and Stphane Mallarm among many others. He is credited with coining the term "modernity" (modernit) to designate the fleeting, ephemeral experience of life in an urban metropolis, and the responsibility art has to capture that experience. He was a member of the Club des Hashischins (sometimes also spelled Club des Hashishins or Club des Hachichins), a Parisian group dedicated to the exploration of drug-induced experiences, notably with hashish, he was a regular user of laudanum, opium, and absinthe.

Le Poison Charles Baudelaire

Le vin sait revtir le plus sordide bouge D'un luxe miraculeux, Et fait surgir plus d'un portique fabuleux Dans l'or de sa vapeur rouge, Comme un soleil couchant dans un ciel nbuleux. L'opium agrandit ce qui n'a pas de bornes, Projette l'illimit, Approfondit le temps, creuse la volupt, Et de plaisirs noirs et mornes Remplit l'me au del de sa capacit. Tout cela ne vaut pas le poison qui dcoule De tes yeux, de tes yeux verts, Lacs o mon me tremble et se voit l'envers... Mes songes viennent en foule Pour se dsaltrer ces gouffres amers. Tout cela ne vaut pas le terrible prodige De ta salive qui mord, Qui plonge dans l'oubli mon me sans remord, Et, charriant le vertige, Le roule dfaillant aux rives de la mort!

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Poison (English translation)

Wine can endow the lowest dive with sudden luxury and out of a red mist create enchanted porticoes, like sunset firing a sodden sky. Opium can dilate boundless space and plumb eternity, emptying out time itself till a grim ecstasy burdens the soul past all bearing. None of which equals the poison welling up in your eyes that show me my poor soul reversed My dreams throng to drink at those green, distorting pools. None of which rivals the taste of your bitter saliva which like a pestilence infects my soul until it sinks unconscious on the shores of death !7

Avec ses vtements ondoyants et nacrs

Avec ses vtements ondoyants et nacrs, Mme quand elle marche on croirait qu'elle danse, Comme ces longs serpents que les jongleurs sacrs Au bout de leurs btons agitent en cadence. Comme le sable morne et l'azur des dserts, Insensibles tous deux l'humaine souffrance Comme les longs rseaux de la houle des mers Elle se dveloppe avec indiffrence. Ses yeux polis sont faits de minraux charmants, Et dans cette nature trange et symbolique O l'ange inviol se mle au sphinx antique,

CHARLES BAUDELAIRE, Les Fleurs Du Mal, translation by RICHARD HOWARD, David R. Godine Publisher 1983, p. 54

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O tout n'est qu'or, acier, lumire et diamants, Resplendit jamais, comme un astre inutile, La froide majest de la femme strile.8

Even when she walks (English translation)

Even when she walks she seems to dance! Her garments writhe and glisten like long snakes obedient to the rhythm of the wands by which a fakir wakens them to grace. Like both the desert and the desert sky Insensible to human suffering, and like the oceans endless labyrinth she shows her body with indifference. Precious minerals are her polished eyes, and in her strange symbolic nature where angel and sphinx unite, where diamonds, gold, and steel dissolve into one light, shines forever, useless as a star, the sterile womans icy majesty.9

8 9

Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal, Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, 1857, Paris, p. 61 CHARLES BAUDELAIRE, Les Fleurs Du Mal, translation by RICHARD HOWARD, David R. Godine Publisher 1983, p.33

15

August Strindberg was a Swedish playwright,

novelist, poet, essayist and painter. A prolific writer who often drew directly on his personal experience, Strindberg's career spanned four decades, during which time he wrote over 60 plays and more than 30 works of fiction, autobiography, history, cultural analysis, and politics. A bold experimenter and iconoclast throughout, he explored a wide range of dramatic methods and purposes, from naturalistic tragedy, monodrama, and history plays, to his anticipations of expressionist and surrealist dramatic techniques. From his earliest work, Strindberg developed forms of dramatic action, language, and visual composition so innovative that many were to become technically possible to stage only with the advent of film. He is considered the "father" of modern Swedish literature and his The Red Room (1879) has frequently been described as the first modern Swedish novel.

Indian summer August Strindberg (English translation)

From the sickroom's chloral fragrant pillows, darkened by stifled sighs and as yet unheard blasphemies; from the bedside table, cluttered with medicinal bottles, prayer books and Heine, I stumbled out on the balcony to look at the sea. Shrouded in my flowered blanket I let the October sun shine on my yellow cheeks and on a bottle of absinthe, green as the sea, green as the spruce branches on a snowy street where a funeral procession has passed. The sea lay motionless, and the wind slept -as if nothing had happened! Then came a moth,
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a brown horrid moth, which once was a caterpillar but had crawled up out of a newly raked leaf pile, tricked by the sum if you please! Shivering with cold or unfamiliarity, he alit on my flowered blanket. And he chose among the roses and the aniline lilacs the smallest and ugliest-how can one be so stupid! When the hour had passed and I stood up to go and turn in, he still sat there, that stupid moth. He had fulfilled his destiny and was dead, the stupid bastard!10

Indiansommar - (August Strindberg, urDikterpversochprosa, 1883)

Frnsjukrummetskloraldoftandekuddar, mrknadeavkvvdasuckar ochhittillsohrdahdelser; frnnattduksbordet, belamratavmedikamentsflaskor, bnbckeroch Heine, jag stappladeutpbalkongen fratt se phavet. Svept i min blommigafilt lt jag oktobersolenskina p mina gula kinder ochp en flaskaabsint, grnsomhavet,
10

Strindberg, August, , Selected poems of August Strindberg edited and translated by Lotta L fgren. arbondale : Southern Illinois University Press, c2002, p.46

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grnsomgranriset p en sniggata drettliktggttfram. Havet lg blickstillt, och vinden sov som om ingenting passerat! D kom en fjril, en brun otck fjril, som frr varit klmask men nu kravlat sig upp ur en nylagd lvhg, narrad av solskenet gubevars! Sklvande av kld eller ovana slog han sig ner p min blommiga filt. Och han valde bland rosorna och anilinsyrenerna den minsta och fulaste hur kan man vara s dum! Nr timman var ute och jag reste mig fr att g och ta in, satt han kvar nnu, den dumma fjriln. Han hade uppfyllt sin bestmmelse och var dd, den dumma djveln!11

11

August Strindberg, Dikterpversochprosa, Publisher: Bonnier 1883, Book from the collections of: Oxford University, p.152

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Note:Between 1880 and 1881 a collection of all Strindberg's previous short stories, I Vrbrytningen (Spring Harvest), is published divided into seven booklets. Immediately after the seventh booklet is published the collection is also published as a book in its entirety.

Sunset on the ocean (English translation)

"I'm lying on the boatswain's locker smoking "Fem BlBrder" thinking of nothing. The sea is green dark absinthe green it is bitter like magnesium chloride and saltier than sodium chloride it is chaste like potassium iodide and oblivion, oblivion from large sins and large sorrows you find only in the ocean, and absinthe! O green absinthe sea, o calm absinthe oblivion, numb my senses and let me fall asleep in peace, as I fell asleep before over an article in Revues des deux Mondes! Sweden lies likesmoke like the smoke from a MaduroHavanna and the sun is sitting above like an almost extinguished cigar, but around the horizon the quarries stand red like Bengal-fires shedding light on the misery."12

12

http://www.absinthe.se, English translation

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SolnedgngpHavet
.Jag lgpkabelgattet, .Rkte fem bl brder Och tnkte p intet. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -.Havet r s grnt, S dunkelt absintgrnt -Det r bittert som chlormagnesium Och saltare n chlornatrium; Det r kyskt som jodkalium. Och glmska, glmska Av stora synder och stora sorger Den ger endast havet Och absint! O du grna absinthav, O du stilla absintglmska, Dva mina sinnen Och lt mig somna i r Som frr jag somnade .ver en artikel i Revue des deux Mondes. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -Sverge ligger som en rk, ...Somrkenav en Maduro-Havanna ...Och solen sitter bredvid Som en halvslckt cigarr. Men runt kring horisonten St brotten s rda Som bengaliska eldar ...Ochlysapelndet!13

13

August Strindberg, I vrbrytningen, online Internet Archive - Project Gutenberg.

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Arthur Rimbaud (1854 1891) was a French poet.

Born in Charleville, Ardennes, he produced his works while still in his late teensVictor Hugo described him at the time as "an infant Shakespeare"and he gave up creative writing altogether before the age of 20. As part of the decadent movement, Rimbaud influenced modern literature, music, and arts, and prefigured surrealism. Rimbaud arrived in late September 1871 at Verlaine's invitation and resided briefly in Verlaine's home. Verlaine, who was married to the seventeenyear-old and pregnant Mathilde Maut, had recently left his job and taken up drinking. In later published recollections of his first sight of Rimbaud, Verlaine described him at the age of seventeen as having "the real head of a child, chubby and fresh, on a big, bony rather clumsy body of a still-growing adolescent, and whose voice, with a very strong Ardennes accent, that was almost a dialect, had highs and lows as if it were breaking." Rimbaud and Verlaine began a short and torrid affair. Whereas Verlaine had likely engaged in prior homosexual experiences, it remains uncertain whether the relationship with Verlaine was Rimbaud's first. During their time together they led a wild, vagabond-like life spiced by absinthe and hashish.

"Comdie de la Soif" III verse "Les Amis"

"Viens, les Vins vont aux plages, Et les flots par millions ! Vois le Bitter sauvage Rouler du haut des monts ! Gagnons, plerins sages, L'Absinthe aux verts piliers...14

14

Wallace Fowlie, Seth Adam Whidden, Rimbaud: Complete Works, Selected Letters : a Bilingual Edition, University of Chicago Press, 2005, p.176/177

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Comedy of thirst III verse Friends (English translation)

"Come, the Wines go to the beaches, And waves by the millions! See the wild Bitter Rolling from the mountaintops! Let us, wise pilgrims, reach The Absinthe with its green pillars..."

Absinthe poem
"Long live L'academied'Absomphe...It is the most delicate and trembling of all vestments, this drunkenness by virtue of the sagebrush of the glaciers, absomphe..15

15

BetinaWittels, Robert Hermesch, T. A. Breaux, Absinthe: Sip of Seduction: A Contemporary Guide, Speck Press, p. 16

22

Ernest Dowson was an English poet whose

passion and despair revolved around a girl, Adelaide (Cynara), whom he first met when she was eleven. He wrote some of his best work for her, but she, unable to relate to his verse or return his passion, married a tailor - and Dowson spent the rest of his short life bereft and adrift. The title of this celebration of brevity is from Horaces Ode I: Life's brevity prevents us from fulfilling our potential. Dowson was a friend of Yeats, of Symons, of Gide and Verlaine, amongst others. As with Verlaine, alcohol was more a master than a friend, and he had constant sad recourse, when in France, to absinthe, which he referred to as Opaline. Like Verlaine, his personal appearance and hygiene disgusted the bourgeois, though his poetry was well-received. He attended Verlaine's funeral, and was one of the very few supporters and final friends of Oscar Wilde.

AbsinthiaTaetra
Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed. The man let the water trickle gently into his glass, and as the green clouded, a mist fell from his mind. Then he drank opaline. Memories and terrors beset him. The past tore after him like a panther and through the blackness of the present he saw the luminous tiger eyes of the things to be. But he drank opaline.

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And that obscure night of the soul, and the valley of humiliation, through which he stumbled, were forgotten. He saw blue vistas of undiscovered countries, high prospects and a quiet, caressing sea. The past shed its perfume over him, today held his hand as if it were a little child, and tomorrow shone like a white star: nothing was changed. He drank opaline. The man had known the obscure night of the soul, and lay even now in the valley of humiliation; and the tiger menace of the things to be was red in the skies. But for a little while he had forgotten. Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed. (AbsinthiaTaetra is part of Decorations in Verse and Prose published in 1899)

DREGS
'The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof, (This is the end of every song man sings!) The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain, Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain; And health and hope have gone the way of love Into the drear oblivion of lost things. Ghosts go along with us until the end; This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend. With pale, indifferent eyes we sit and wait For the dropt curtain and the closing gate: This is the end of all the songs man sings...'16

16

The poems of Ernest Dowson, with a memoir by Arthur Symons, four illustrations by Aubrey Breadsley and a portrait by William Rothenstein, DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, New York 1922, p. 148

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Alphonse Allais (1854-1905) was a French writer and humourist

born in Honfleur, Calvados. He is the author of many collections of whimsical writings. A poet as much as a humourist, he in particular cultivated the verse form known as holorhyme, i.e. made up entirely of homophonous verses, where entire lines rhyme.

Absinthes - Alphonse Allais (published in Le Chat Noir 1885)

Five o'clock. Foul weather. Grey sky... depressing, hellish sort of grey. Oh, for a good downpour to get rid of all these imbeciles milling around with their idiotic airs!Foul weather. A bad day today, dammit.Bad luck. Article rejected. So politely... : Liked your article... interesting idea... nicely written... but not really in the style of the magazine, I'm afraid Style of the magazine?Style of the magazine?? Dullest magazine in the whole of Paris! Whole of France. Publisher preoccupied, distracted: Got your manuscript here somewhere... yes, liked your novel... interesting idea... nicely written... but business is very slow at the moment, you see... already got too much stuff on our hands... ever thought of writing something aimed more at the popular market? Lots of sales... awards' Went out politely, feeling stupid: Another time, perhaps. Foul weather. Half past five. The boulevards! Let's take to the boulevards. Meet a friend or two. If you can call them friends. Bunch of worthless... But who can you trust in Paris? And why is everyone out tonight so ugly? The women so badly dressed. The men looking so stupide. Waiter! Bring me an absinthe and sugar! Amusing, watching the sugar lump melt gently on its little grid. Same way they say a drip of water hollows out granite. Only difference, sugar softer than granite. Just as well, too. Can you imagine? Waiter, one absinthe and granite! Absinthe on the rocks! That's a good one, that's a good one. Quite funny. For people who aren't in a hurry - absinthe and granite! Nice one. Sugar lumps almost melted now. There it goes. Just like us. Striking image of mankind, a sugar lump...

25

When we are dead, we shall all go the same way. Atom by atom, molecule by molecule. Dissolved, dispersed, returned to the Great Beyond by kind permission of roots and earthworms. Everything sorted out then. Victor Hugo and a hack like Anatole Beaucanard equal in the eyes of the Great God Maggot. Thank goodness. Foul weather... Bad day. Fool of an editor. Unbelievable ass of a publisher. Don't know though. Perhaps not so much talent as keep telling self. Good stuff, absinthe. Not the first mouthful, perhaps. But after that. Good stuff. Six o'clock. Boulevards looking a bit more lively now. And look at the women! A lot prettier than an hour ago.More elegant, too. Men don't look so cretinous either. Sky still grey. Nice mother-of-pearl sort of grey. Rather effective. Lovely nuances. Setting sun tingeing the clouds with pale coppery pink glow. Very fine. Waiter!An absinthe and anis! Good fun, absinthe with sugar, but can't stand around all day waiting for it to melt. Half past six. All these women! And so pretty, most of them. And so strange, too. Mysterious, rather. Where do they all come from? Where are they all going to? Ah, shall we ever know! Not one of them spares me a glance - and yet I love them all so much. I look at each one as she passes, and Im certain Ill never forget her face. Then she vanishes, and I have absolutely no recollection what she looked like. Luckily, there are always even prettier girls following behind. And I would love them so, if only they would let me! But they all pass by. Shall I ever see any one of them again? Street Hawkers out there on the pavement, selling everything under the sunnewspapers... celluloid cigar-cases... cuddly toy monkeys - any colour you want... Who are all these men? Crushed by life, no doubt.Unrecognised geniuses.Renegades. Hollow eyed. But fire still burning in their pupils. A book waiting to be written about them.A great book.An unforgettable book. A book that everyone would have to buy - everyone! Oh, all these women! Why doesn't it occur to just one of them to come in and sit down beside me... kiss me very gently... caress metake me in her arms and rock me to and fro just as mom did when I was small? Waiter!An absinthe neat. And make it a large one!17

17

http://www.oxygenee.com

26

Aleister Crowley (1875-1947), born Edward Alexander

Crowley was an English occultist, mystic, ceremonial magician, poet and mountaineer, who was responsible for founding the religious philosophy of Thelema. Crowley was also pansexual, a recreational drug experimenter and a social critic. In many of these roles he "was in revolt against the moral and religious values of his time", espousing a form of libertinism based upon the rule of "Do What Thou Wilt". Crowley was a habitual drug user and also maintained a meticulous record of his drug-induced experiences with opium, cocaine, hashish, cannabis, alcohol, ether, mescaline, morphine, and heroin. In 1918, Aleister Crowley composed a lyrical essay on absinthe and aesthetics titled "Absinthe - The Green Goddess". He wrote his essay (according to legend, while waiting for a female companion) in the Old Absinthe House in New Orleans. "Art is the soul of life," he proclaimed, "and the Old Absinthe House is the heart and soul of the old quarter of New Orleans."

ABSINTHE (By JEANNE LA GOULUE a pseudonym of Aleister Crowley, published in The

International, New York, October 1917.)

Apollon, qui pleurait le trpas dHyacinthe, Ne voulait pas cder la victoire la mort. Il fallait que son me, adepte de lessor, Trouvt pour la beaut une alchimie plus sainte. Donc, de sa main cleste il puise, il reinte Les dons les plus subtils de la divine Flore. Leurs corps briss soupirent une exhalaison dor Dont il nous recueillait la goutte de lAbsinthe! Aux cavernes blotties, aux palais ptillants, Par un, par deux, buvez ce breuvage daimant. ar cest un sortilge, un propos de dictame; e vin dopal pale avortit la misre, Ouvre de la beaut lintime sanctuaire Ensorcelle mon ceur, extasie mon me!18

18

http://hermetic.com/

27

La lgende de l'Absinthe (English translation)

Apollo, mourning the demise of Hyacinth, Would not cede vicotry to death. His sould, adept of transformation, Had to find a holy alchemy for beauty. So from his celestial hand he exhausts and crushes The subtlest gifts from divine Flora. Their borken bodies sigh a golden exhalation From which he harvest our first drop of - Absinthe! In crouching cellars, in sparkling palaces, Alone or together, drink that potion of loving! For it is a sorcery, a conjuration, This pale opal wine aborts misery. Opens the intimate sanctuary of beauty Bewitches my heart, exalts my soul in ecstasy. 19

19

http://www.inabsinthia.com

28

Charles Cros is perhaps most famous as the man who

almost, but not quite, invented the phonograph. No one before M. Charles Cros had thought of reproducing sound by making an apparatus capable of registering and reproducing sounds which had been engraved with a diaphragm. The inventor gave the name of Paleophone (voix du pass) to his invention. On April 30, 1877 he submitted a sealed envelope containing a letter to the Academy of Sciences in Paris explaining his proposed method. The letter was read in public on the 3rd December following. In his letter, after having shown that his method consisted of detecting an oscillation of a membrane and using the tracing to reproduce the oscillation with respect to its duration and intensity. Cros added that a cylindrical form for the receiving apparatus seemed to him to be the most practical, as it allowed for the graphic inscription of the vibrations by means of a very finethreaded screw. An article on the Paleophone was published in "la semaine du Clerg" on October 10, 1877, written by l'Abb Leblanc. Cros proposed metal for both engraving tool attached to the diaphragm and receiving material for durability. Before Cros had a chance to follow up on this idea or attempt to construct a working model, Thomas Alva Edison introduced his first working phonograph in the USA. Edison used a cylinder covered in tinfoil for his first phonograph, patenting this method for reproducing sound on January 15, 1878. Edison and Cros apparently did not know of each other's work in advance. Cros was convinced that pinpoints of light observed on Mars and Venus, probably high clouds illuminated by the sun, were the lights of large cities on those planets. He spent years petitioning the French government to build a giant mirror that could be used to communicate with the Martians and Venusians by burning giant lines on the deserts of those planets. He was never convinced that the Martians were not a proven fact, nor that the mirror he wanted was technically impossible to build. Charles Cros a Painter, Poet, Physicist, Chemist, Musician, and Inventor. He regularly drank up to 20 Absinthes a day, and was known to regulars at Paris legendary absinthe cafs as a bon vivant, partying long into the next day.

29

"Lendemain" Charles Cros

"Avec les fleurs, avec les femmes, Avec labsinthe, avec le feu, On peut se divertir un peu, Jouer son rle en quelque drame. Labsinthe bue un soir dhiver claire en vert lme enfume, Et les fleurs, sur la bien-aime Embaument devant le feu clair. Puis les baisers perdent leurs charmes, Ayant dur quelques saisons. Les rciproques trahisons Font quon se quitte un jour, sans larmes. On brle lettres et bouquets Et le feu se met lalcve. Et, si la triste vie est sauve, Restent labsinthe et ses hoquets. Les portraits sont mangs des flammes: Les doigts crisps sont tremblotants... On meurt davoir dormi longtemps, avec les fleurs, avec les femmes."20

The morning after (English translation)

"With Flowers, and with Women, With Absinthe, and with this Fire, We can divert ourselves a while, Act out our part in some drama. Absinthe, on a winter evening, Lights up in green the sooty soul; And Flowers, on the beloved, Grow fragrant before the clear Fire. Later, kisses lose their charm Having lasted several seasons;

20

Charles Cros, Le Coffret de santal, AncienneLibrairie TRESSE & STOCK 1908, Book from the collections of: University of Michigan, p. 45 http://archive.org/stream/lecoffretdesant01crosgoog#page/n7/mode/2up

30

And after mutual betrayals We part one day without a tear. We burn letters and bouquets. And fire takes our bower; And if sad life is salvaged Still there is Absinthe and its hiccups. The portraits are eaten by flames. Shrivelled fingers tremble. We die from sleeping long With Flowers, and with Women."

L'heure verte
Comme berce en un hamac La pense oscille et tournoie, A cette heure o tout estomac Dans un flot d'absinthe se noie. Et l'absinthe pntre l'air, Car cette heure est toute meraude. L'apptit aiguise le flair De plus d'un nez rose qui rde. Promenant le regard savant De ses grands yeux d'aigues-marines, Circ cherche d'o vient le vent Qui lui caresse les narines. Et, vers des dners inconnus, Elle court travers l'opale De la brume du soir. Vnus S'allume dans le ciel vert-ple.21

21

Ibid, p. 77

31

Donald Evans (1884 - 1921) was an American poet, publisher, music critic and journalist.
Associated with the avant-garde scene of Greenwich Village, his works relate a strong sense of irony as well as his own personal bohemianism, coupled with the deep influence of 1890s aestheticism. Somewhat comparable to fellow bohemian poet Maxwell Bodenheim, many stories about his bohemian lifestyle circulated. Evans single-handedly founded and managed the Claire Marie press, intending to publish "New Books for Exotic Tastes". He stated its goals as thus, "Claire Marie believes there are in America seven hundred civilized people only. Claire Marie publishes books for civilized people only. Claire Marie's aim, it follows from the premises, is not even secondarily commercial." Evans was an early admirer of Gertrude Stein. He first published her Tender Buttons in 1914. His works include 1914's Sonnets from the Patagonian, 1916's Two Deaths in the Bronx and 1919's Ironica.

Portraits of Louise Norton To Donald Evans

BUVEUSE DABSINTHE
Rue dAphrodite Her voice was fleet-limbed and immaculate, And like peach blossoms blown across the wind Her white words made the hour seem cool and kind, Hung with soft dawns that danced a shadow fete. A silken silence crept up from the South, The flutes were hushed that mimed the orange moon, And down the willow stream my sighs were strewn, While I knelt to the corners of her mouth.

Lead me afar from clamorous dissonance, For I am sick of empty trumpetings, Choking the highways with a dusty noise. Here I have found her sweet sheer utterance, And now I seek the garden of the wings Where I may bathe in sounds that life destroys.22

22

Donald Evans, Sonnets from Patagonian, Published by Nicholas L. Brown 1918, p. 51

32

Glen MacDonough (1870-1924) was a US American writer, lyricist and librettist.

MacDonough is best-remembered today as the librettist of Victor Herbert's operetta, Babes in Toyland (1903). He wrote the lyrics for the operetta, Chris and the Wonderful Lamp (1899), with music by March King, John Phillip Sousa, a work that undergoes periodic revival even today. MacDonough was also one of the many lyricists called to help out in the first musical production of Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz (1902). Between 1896 and 1909, MacDonough collaborated with Victor Herbert on three other operettas besides Babes in Toyland: It Happened in Nordland (1905), Wonderland (1905), and The Rose of Algeria (1909). MacDonough was also the American adapter of Johann Strauss' last work, Vienna Life (1901), and of Franz Lehar's The Count of Luxembourg (1912). Absinthe Frappe was written song by Glen MacDonough, combined with music of Victor Herbert as a part of the Broadway musical Comedy It Happened in Nordland. The Musical was performed 254 times during the period between December 1904 to November 1905 in the Lew M. Fields Theatre in New York. The song was sung by the actor Harry Davenport who played the role of Prince George of Nebula.23

Absinthe Frapp
When life seems gray and dark the dawn and you are blue, There is they say on such a morn one thing to do. Rise up and ring, a bell-boy call to you straight-way, And bid him bring a cold and tall absinthe frapp. It will free you first from the burning thirst that is born on the night of the bowl, like a sun 'twill rise through the inky skies That so heavily hang o'er your soul. At the first cool sip on your fevered lip you determine to live through the day, Life's again worthwhile as with dawning smile you imbibe your absinthe frappe. The deed is done so waste no woe o'er yestereen. Nor swear to shun a year or so the festive scene. Remorse will pass despair will fade with speed away before a glass of rightly made absinthe frappe.

23

It Happened in Nordland, IBDB Internet Broadway Database http://www.ibdb.com/production.php?id=5964

33

It will free you first from the burning thirst that is born on the night of the bowl, like a sun 'twill rise through the inky skies that so heavily hang o'er your soul. At the first cool sip on your fevered lip you determine to live through the day, life's again worthwhile as with dawning smile you imbibe your absinthe frappe.

Note: The sheet music reproductions are borrowed from JScholarship which is designed to gather, distribute, and preserve digital materials related to the Johns Hopkins research and instructional mission. The reproductions can be found in The Lester S. Levy Collection of Sheet Music is part of Special Collections at the Milton S. Eisenhower Library of The Johns Hopkins University. https://jscholarship.library.jhu.edu/handle/1774.2/18475

Sheet music page.3 strophic with chorus

Sheet music page. 4strophic with chorus

34

Sheet music page.5 strophic with chorus

Sheet music page. 6strophic with chorus

Sheet music page. 7strophic with chorus

Front Cover

35

Maurice Rollinat (1846 1903) was a French poet. La BuveusedAbsinthe

Elle tait toujours enceinte, Et puis elle avait un air... Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Elle vivait dans la crainte De son ignoble partner : Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Par les nuits o le ciel suinte, Elle couchait en plein air. Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Ceux que la dbauche reinte La lorgnaient dun il amer : Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Dans Paris, ce labyrinthe Immense comme la mer, Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe,

Elle allait, prunelle teinte, Rampant aux murs comme un ver... Elle tait toujours enceinte !

36

Oh ! Cette jupe dteinte Qui se bombait chaque hiver ! Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Sa voix ntait quune plainte, Son estomac quun cancer : Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Quelle farouche complainte Dira son hideux spencer ! Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Je la revois, pauvre Aminte, omme si ctait hier : Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Elle effrayait maint et mainte Rien quen tournant sa cuiller ; Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Quand elle avait une quinte De toux, oh ! quelle a souffert, Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Elle rlait : a mesquinte ! Je suis dj dans lenfer. Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Or elle but une pinte De laffreux liquide vert : Elle tait toujours enceinte ! Et lagonie tait peinte Sur son il peine ouvert ; Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe ! Quand son amant dit sans feinte : Ddbarras, cen est un fier ! Elle tait toujours enceinte. Pauvre buveuse dabsinthe !24

24

Maurice Rollinat, Les nvroses: Les mes-Les luxuries-Les refuges-Les spectres-Les tnbres, G. Charpentier, Editeur, 1883, Paris, p. 270

37

Albert Giraud (1860-1929) was a Belgian poet who wrote

in French. Giraud was born Emile Albert Kayenbergh in Leuven, Belgium. He studied law at the University of Louvain. He left university without a degree and took up journalism and poetry. In 1885, Giraud became a member of La Jeune Belgique, a Belgian nationalist literary movement that met at the Caf Ssino in Brussels. Giraud became chief librarian at the Belgian Ministry of the Interior. He was a Symbolist poet. His published works include Pierrot Lunaire: Rondelsbergamasques (1884), a poem cycle based on the commedia dell'arte figure of Pierrot, and La Guirlande des Dieux (1910). The composer Arnold Schnberg set a German language version (translated by Otto Erich Hartleben) of selections from his Pierrot Lunaire to innovative atonal music.

Absinthe
Dans une immense mer d'absinthe, Je dcouvre des pays sols, Aux ciels capricieux et fous Comme un dsir de femme enceinte. La capiteuse vague tinte Des rythmes verdtres et doux: Dans une immense mer d'absinthe, Je dcouvre des pays sols. Mais soudain ma barque est treinte Par des poulpes visqueux et mous: Au milieu d'un gluant remous Je disparais, sans une plainte, Dans une immense mer d'absinthe. -----------------------------------In an immense sea of absinthe, I discover drunken countries, To the heavens which are as mad and capricious As a pregnant woman's cravings. The heady wave resounds With soft, greenish rhythms: In an immense sea of absinthe, I discover drunken countries.

38

But suddenly my boat is seized By soft and viscous octopi: Amid a gluey undertow I disappear, without a cry, Into an immense sea of absinthe.25 The poem was published in Pierrot Lunaire: Rondelsbergamasques (1884).

Photograph of Toulouse Lautrec and Lucin Metivet drinking Absinthe, c.1885 at Muse Toulouse Lautrec Albi Tarn France

25

http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/song_show_lyrics/11213308

39

Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918) was a French poet born in

Italy, playwright, short story writer, novelist, and art critic. Among the foremost poets of the early 20th century, he is credited with coining the word Surrealism and writing one of the earliest works described as surrealist, the play The Breasts of Tiresias.

Nuit rhnane
Mon verre est plein d'un vin trembleur comme une flamme coutez la chanson lente d'un batelier Qui raconte avoir vu sous la lune sept femmes Tordre leurs cheveux verts et longs jusqu' leurs pieds Debout chantez plus haut en dansant une ronde Que je n'entende plus le chant du batelier Et mettez prs de moi toutes les filles blondes Au regard immobile aux nattes replies Le Rhin le Rhin est ivre o les vignes se mirent Tout l'or des nuits tombe en tremblant s'y reflter La voix chante toujours en rle-mourir Ces fes aux cheveux verts qui incantent l't Mon verre s'est bris comme un clat de rire26

26

Guillaume Apollinaire, Alcools pomes 1898-1913, Soixante-huitime d. Gallimard 1920, Paris, p. 111 (Internet Archive http://archive.org/details/alcoolspomes1800apol, Book Number: PQ2601 .P6 A7 1920)

40

RHEINISCHE NACHT - bersetzung: Jrgen Helbach

In meinem vollen Glase leuchtet flammengleich der Wein Hret wie ein Schiffer sanft erzhlt in seinem Sang Erzhlt von sieben Fraun die er gesehn im Mondenschein Flechtend ihr grnes Haar bis an die Fe lang

Stehet auf singet lauter und fangt den Rundtanz an Da ich nicht mehr das Lied des Schiffers hr Alle blonden Mdchen holt an meine Seite dann Mit tiefen Blick und das Haupt von Zpfen schwer

Der Rhein, der Rhein ist trunken von dem sich spiegelnden Wein Und alles Gold der Nchte versinkt in seinem Wellenschlagen Doch immer noch ertnt der Stimme Todespein Von grnbehaarten Feen die Zaubernacht erschlagen

Mein Glas zersprang wie eines Gelchters Schrein27

27

http://jhelbach.de/

41

Alfred de Musset (1810-1857) French Romantic poet and

playwright, remembered for his poetry. A love affair with the novelist George Sand between the years 1833 and 1835 inspired some of Musset's finest lyrics. After hesitating between many professions, Musset abandoned medicine because of his distaste of the dissecting room. Instead, he studied painting for six months in the Louvre. Musset began his career as a poet and dramatist in 1828 with the publication of a ballad called 'A Dream'. His early poems won the approval of Victor Hugo, who accepted Musset in his Romantic literary circle Cnacle.

Ode lAbsinthe
Salut, verte liqueur, Nmsis de lorgie! Bien souvent, en passant sur ma lvre rougie, Tu mas donn livresse et loubli de mes maux; Jai vu plus dun gant plir sous ton treinte! Salut, sur de la ort! Apportez de labsinthe; Quon la verse grands flots! Il est temps la fin que je te remercie: Celui qui ne sait pas toute la posie Quun flacon de cristal peut porter en son flanc, Celui-l na jamais prs dune table ronde, Vu dun il gar les globes et le monde Valser en grimaant. Il ne soutiendra pas sans que son cur dfaille Quil nest pas sur la terre une chose qui vaille De livrogne absinth le sommeil radieux, Qui peut, quand il lui plat, durant son rve trange, Quittant le corps humain, sentir des ailes dange Lemporter dans les cieux. oi, je taime! Aux mortels ta force est plus funeste Que la foudre, le feu, la mitraille, la peste, Et je te vis souvent terrasser le soldat, Insoucieux de tout, contentant son envie, Quoique sachant trop bien quil te donne sa vie Qupargna le combat.

42

Jaime ta forte odeur et ton flot dun vert sombre Qui laisse slancer, au milieu de son ombre Des feux couleur de sang tout le long du cristal, Comme si le Seigneur, en signe de prudence, Avait voulu mler ton vert desprance Quelque signe fatal. Belle comme la mer, comme ses flots cruelle, Tu peux quand tu le veux aussi, cacher comme elle, Sous un calme apparent tes instincts irrits, Et ton flux fait tourner un ocan de ttes, Qui battent en riant, les soirs des jours de ftes, Les portes des cits.

Pour moi, qui ne veux pas atteindre la vieillesse, Je veux contre ta force essayer ma faiblesse, ombattre contre toi, ttreindre corps corps. Je veux voir, aujourdhui, dans un duel terrible, Si tu peux soutenir ton titre dinvincible: Notre tmoin sera la mort!28 (Originally published in the newspaper Le Gaulois du Dimanche in 1905).

28

Encyclopdie de l'Agora http://agora.qc.ca/documents/absinthe--ode_a_labsinthe_par_alfred_de_musset

43

Charles Monselet (1825 - 1888) was a French

journalist, novelist, poet and playwright, nicknamed "the king of the gastronomes" by his contemporaries. He specialised in comedic and romantic novels and his total output was around 40 volumes.

L'heure de l'absinthe
On avait dj lheure du berger; voici venir maintenant lheure de labsinthe. Paris nest continuellement occup qu se crer des habitudes. lhabitude du tabac, lhabitude de la bire, il a ajout depuis plusieurs annes lhabitude de labsinthe. Quon ne sattende pas de banales imprcations contre ce breuvage-meraude, comme dirait Victor Hugo. Je sais les dsordres que son abus entrane. Donc, Paris navait gure autrefois quun seul motif pour aller au caf, motif honnte, plausible, celui de savourer, entre six & sept heures du soir, La fve de oka dans lmail du Japon.

Bientt il saperut que ce ntait pas assez pour lui daller au caf aprs dner; il voulut encore y aller avant. Ds lors, lheure de labsinthe fut imagine. Lheure de labsinthe commence vers quatre heures de laprs-midi. ce moment tous les cafs, principalement ceux du boulevard, prsentent laspect le plus anim. est la Bourse des oisifs aprs la Bourse des affairs. Des groupes de trois ou quatre personnes sorganisent autour de chaque table lextrieur pendant lt, lintrieur pendant lhiver. est un va-&-vient de plateaux; les garons, la bouteille dabsinthe au poing, demandent aux consommateurs : - Monsieur, pure ou avec de la gomme? - Non, avec de lanisette.

44

Car il y a cent manires de prendre labsinthe, & puis aussi de la faire, cest--dire de la troubler avec leau, de la mler, de la battre, de la lier. Jai connu des professeurs dabsinthe. La use verte! ainsi lont baptise quelques potes dsesprs.

Un flau moderne! a-t-on ajout. Pas si moderne, car on trouve dans lApocalypse deux versets consacrs labsinthe & aux buveurs dabsinthe. LApocalypse a tout vu, tout annonc; cest encore le livre le plus actuel que nous ayons. Voici ces deux versets, dtachs du chapitre VIII :

10. Puis le tiers ange sonna de la trompette, & il cheut du ciel une estoille ardente comme un flambeau, &cheut en la tierce partie des fleuves & s fontaines des eaux. . Et le nom de lestoille est Absinthe, & la troisime partie des eaux devint absinthe, & plusieurs des hommes moururent par les eaux cause quelles devinrent amres. Mais pour peu que la couleur vous effraye ou vous semble suspecte, lecteur, on a vous proposer labsinthe blanche, labsinthe hypocrite, qui rassure le passant sur votre moralit & lui fait croire que vous buvez de lorgeat. Du reste, ainsi que je lai dit, labsinthe nest quun prtexte chez beaucoup de gens. ela est si vrai, que la moiti dentre eux se font apporter du vermouth, du madre, du marsalla ou du bitter. Oh! le bitter! Quelques-uns le prennent en le mlangeant avec du cognac, du curaao, de la menthe & deux morceaux de sucre. Je mabstiens de tout commentaire. ela nen est pas moins lheure de labsinthe. Elle est tellement passe dans nos murs, cette heure-l, que rien nest plus frquent que de surprendre au coin dune rue le dialogue suivant : - Tiens! cest vous! Quest-ce que vous devenez? On ne vous voit nulle part. - Mais si! - O donc? - Tous les soirs au caf de ***. - quelle heure? - lheure de labsinthe, parbleu! Ainsi, dans cette merveilleuse capitale, senrichit & se potise journellement le langage de Voltaire & de Joseph Kelm.29
29

Charles Monselet, De Montmartre Sville, Achille Faure, Libraire diteur , Paris 1865, p. 16 (online source Internet Archive, http://archive.org/stream/demontmartresvi00monsgoog#page/n29/mode/2up)

45

Arthur William Symons (1865 1945), was a British

poet, critic and magazine editor.

The Absinthe Drinker

Gently I wave the visible world away. Far off, I hear a roar, afar yet near. Far off and strange, a voice is in my ear, And is the voice my own? The words I say Fall strangely, like a dream, across the day; And the dim sunshine is a dream. How clear, New as the world to lover's eyes, appear The men and women passing on their way! The world is very fair. The hours are all Linked in a dance of mere forgetfulness. I am at peace with God and man. O glide, Sands of the hour-glass that I count not, fall Serenely: scarce I feel your soft caress, Rocked on this dreamy and indifferent tide.30

30

Arthur Symons, Silhouettes, Leonard Smithers, London/George H. Richmond and CO., New York, 1896, p. 32 (Internet Archive http://archive.org/stream/cu31924013557172#page/n7/mode/2up

46

Paul Verlaine (1844 8 January 1896) the

most celebrated Symbolist poet was also the greatest natural Bohemian since Gerard de Nerval; and yet his whole existence was a poignant struggle between the Bohemian and the bourgeois. Paul Verlaine was born in Metz in 1844, the only child of an army officer and his pious, respectable, well-to-do wife. He was educated at the Lycee Bonaparte in Paris, passed his baccalaureates-lettres, and became a copyingclerk at the Hotel de Vine. Verlaine, however, had no ambition and quickly developed a profound distaste for clerical work. He soon showed his incurable addiction to drink. For a moment it seemed as if he might control his passion for alcohol. He fell profoundly in love, at first sight, with a girl of sixteen: MathildeMaute de Fleurville.. Verlaine and Mathilde were married in 1870, and the strains of the Franco-Prussian War, the Siege of Paris, the Commune, and of sharing quarters with the Mautes, proved too much for husband and wife. Though Verlaine loved Mathilde and his infant son, he returned for solace to gin and absinthe; the habit made him intolerably violent. In 1871 Arthur Rimbaud arrived in Paris, and any frail remaining hope of an ordered life was lost. Verlaine was dazzled by this uncouth, brilliant, ruthless young poet; he was physically drawn to him. In 1872 he left his wife and son, in order to live with Rimbaud in London and Belgium. On 10 July 1875, in a drunken quarrel in Brussels, Verlaine shot Rimbaud in the wrist, and was imprisoned for two years at Mons. In April 1874 Mathilde Verlalne obtained a separation and the shock of the separation sent him to religion for comfort and guidance. Over the next several years a series of tragedies befell him. His adopted favourite student Lucien Letinois died, Verlaine sold the farm and tried (for the bourgeois in him still struggled with the Bohemian) to get himself employed again at the H6tel de Ville. He failed to get work, his mother died in 1886 and at the same time he heard that his former wife had recently remarried. Thence forward he found cafe life a deplorable but imperious necessity. Verlaine, unlike many poets of that generation, never gave himself up to hashish, opium, ether or morphine, as was then the fashion. He professed genuine horror of these poisons of the mind... He remained faithful to the green enchantress absinthe. With rare exceptions, Verlaine never drank anything but absinthe, beer... and rum-and-water. He had finally taken refuge in the Latin Quarter, and he was often to be seen near the Pantheon, chatting freely to a retinue of young poets. Increasingly the great Bohemian of the epoch sought refuge in alcohol. Alcohol was the curtain he drew across the ugliness of reality. Constantly exalted by absinthe, he only slept for a few troubled hours each night.
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As soon as dawn broke, he was up, to stroll around the quartier, breaking his walk at familiar taverns. Verlaine died on 8 January 1896. 'His is a rare and singular case,' Jules Lemaitre had written. 'He has found the means of living in a civilised society as if he was living in the heart of Nature... He has kept a soul as new as that of Adam when he opened his eyes to the light.... He is a savage, a barbarian, a child....But this child has music in his soul, and on certain days he hears voices which have not been heard by any other on earth.'31

A FRANOIS COPPE LES passages Choiseul aux odeurs de jadis, Oranges, parchemins rares, et les gantires ! Et nos dbuts , et nos verves primesautires, De ce Soixante-sept ce Soixante-dix, O sont-ils ? Mais o sont aussi les tout petits vnements et les catastrophes altires, Et le temps o Sarcey signait S. de Suttires, Ntant pas encore mort de la mort dAthys ! Or vous, mon cher Coppe, au sein du bon Lemerre omme au sein dAbraham les justes dautrefois, Vous gotez limmortalit sur des pavois. oi, ma gloire nest quune humble absinthe phmre Prise en catimini, crainte des trahisons, Et, si je nen bois pas plus, cest pour des raisons.32

(English translation of the last verse)

For me my glory is an Humble ephemeral Absinthe Drunk on the sly, with fear of treason and if I drink it no longer, it is for a good reason.

31 32

http://www.vintagevenus.com.au/bohemia/eblinks/spirboho/paris1830/verlaine/verlaine.html [Littrature franaise en dition lectronique]. Paul Verlaine (1844 6). Daprs le Tome III des OEuvres compltes de Paul Verlaine chez Lon Vanier (1901), p. 9 http://www.scribd.com/doc/188381/Verlaine-PDedicaces

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Gustave Kahn (1859 1936) was a French Symbolist

poet and art critic. Kahn was born in Metz. He claimed to have invented the term verslibre, or free verse; he was in any case one of the first European exponents of the form. Hies principal publications include Les Palais nomades, 1887, Domaine de fe, 1895, and Le Livre d'images, 1897. Kahn also made a valuable contribution to the history of the movement with his book Symbolistes et dcadents, 1902. In addition to his poems, Kahn was a public intellectual who wrote novels, plays, and literary criticism. He played a key role in a number of periodicals, including La Vogue, La Revue Indpendante, La Revue Blanche and Le Mercure de France. He was also an art critic and collector who stayed current with developments in painting and sculpture until his death. He also played a role in a number of debates on public issues, including anarchism, feminism, socialism, and Zionism.

Absinthe
Absinthe, mother of all happiness, O infinite liquor, you glint in my glass green and pale like the eyes of the mistress I once loved. Absinthe, mother of happiness, like Her, you leave in the body a memory of distant pain; absinthe, mother of insane rages and of staggering drunkenness, where one can say without thinking oneself a madman that one is loved by one's mistress. Absinthe, your fragrance soothes me...33

33

Phil Baker, The Book of Absinthe: A Cultural History, Grove Press, 2003, p. 230 http://books.google.mk/books?id=dsqugu7guQQC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0# v=onepage&q&f=false

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Joyce Kilmer (1886 1918) was an American journalist,

poet, literary critic, lecturer, and editor. Though a prolific poet whose works celebrated the common beauty of the natural world as well as his religious faith, Kilmer is remembered most for a short poem titled "Trees" (1913), which was published in the collection Trees and Other Poems in 1914. While most of his works are unknown, a select few of his poems remain popular and are published frequently in anthologies. Several critics, both Kilmer's contemporaries and modern scholars, disparaged Kilmer's work as being too simple, overly sentimental, and suggested that his style was far too traditional, even archaic.

Absinthe
I have prayed to the Christ of the merciful eyes, I have prayed to the Lord of Hosts, I have prayed, but in vain, for God to rise And scatter these murderous ghosts, These horrible, beckoning ghosts that sign And beckon me where? Ah, where? O little green god in your crystal shrine, You only will heed my prayer! The breath of your mouth is a powerful wind That whirls sorrow-shadows away; The light of your eyes burns the bonds that bind, I escape from the earth's fell sway. The pallid figures in threatening line, They falter and tremble and flee. O little green god in your crystal shrine, Shed some of your glory on me! I have given you service, sincere and prolonged, I have given you love--ah, you know! Though I pray in a fane by your worshippers thronged, There is no one who worships you so. My hand and my heart and my brain, ah, divine Lord, master of living, I give, O little green god in your crystal shrine, Take these--and then bid me to live!

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By a green marble house in a garden of green, Green roses bloom 'neat a green sun, Where the maidens have eyes of an emerald sheen, And the strife and the labour are done, O there let me dwell, where the ravenous whine Of the earth ghosts is soundless and dead. O little green god in your crystal shrine, Your heavenly dream-shower shed!34

Placard art ca.1900

34

Joyce Kilmer, Summer of Love, The Baker & Taylor Company, New York, 1911, p. 58 http://archive.org/details/summeroflovebyjo00kilmrich

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Emily Dickinson (1830 1886) was an American

poet. While Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime. The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation.

I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed

I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an Alcohol! Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. When landlords turn the drunken bee Out of the foxglove's door, When butterflies renounce their drams, I shall but drink the more! Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, And saints to windows run, To see the tippler Leaning against the Sun!35

Note: I taste a liquor never brewed. First published Springfield Daily Republican (May 4), 1861. Titled The May-Wine.

35

The Poems of Emily Dickinson, ed. By Martha Dickinson Bianchi and Alfred LeeteHampson, Little, Brown, and Company, Boston, 1930, p. 12 http://archive.org/details/poemsofemilydick00dick

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Paul Valry (1871 1945) was a French poet, essayist, and

philosopher. His interests were sufficiently broad that he can be classified as a polymath. In addition to his poetry and fiction (drama and dialogues) and aphorisms on art, history, letters, music, and current events, he also wrote many misanthropic diatribes on human nature.

Les vaines danseuses

Celles qui sont des fleurs lgres sont venues, Figurines dor et beauts toutes menues O sirise une faible lune... Les voici Mlodieuses fuir dans le bois clairci. De mauves et diris et de nocturnes roses Sont les grces de nuit sous leurs danses closes Qui de parfums voils dispensent leurs doigts dor. ais lazur doux seffeuille en ce bocage mort, Et de leau mince luit peine, repose Comme un ple trsor d'une antique rose Do le silence en fleur monte... Encor les voici Mlodieuses fuir dans le bois clairci. Aux calices aims leurs mains sont gracieuses; Un peu de lune dort sur leurs lvres pieuses Et leurs bras merveilleux aux gestes endormis Aiment dnouer sous les myrtes amis Leurs liens fauves et leurs caresses... Mais certaines, Moins captives du rythme et des harpes lointaines, Sen vont d'un pas subtil au lac enseveli Boire des lys leau frle o dort le pur oubli.

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The Vain Dancers (English translation by Christopher Mulrooney)

They who are lightsome flowers now are come, Golden figurines and beauties not buxom Where a feeble moon iridises... They are here Tuneful to flee into the wood bright and clear. Of mallows and irises and nocturnal roses Are the night graces under their dances disclosed. What veiled perfumes their golden fingers dispense! But the sweet azure is bare in this dead copse And some thin water gleams a bit, rested Like an antique dewdrops pallid treasure Whence in flower rises silence... and here Tuneful to flee into the wood bright and clear. To loved calyxes their hands are gracious; A little moonlight sleeps on their lips pious And their marvellous arms with drowsy gestures Love to undo beneath the friendly myrtles Their wild bonds and their caresses... But some, Less captive to the rhythm and harps far strum, Go with subtle steps to the lake buried To drink from lilies frail water where sleeps pure oblivion.36

36

http://calquezine.blogspot.com/2007/03/paul-valry-les-vaines-danseuses.html

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Carl Daniel Fllstrm (1858 - 1937) was a Swedish writer,

actor, journalist and theatre critic.

Absinthe (English translation by Markus Hartsmar, Absinthe.se, 2009)

Absinthe! It came and the glass was filled for the third time I believe, if memory serves, for, I thought, here is cure to be found and I was ill in body and in mind. The green witchs caress was so soft, that heart tired of life forgot its troubles. Absinthe is good: you feel it in marrow and bone and it livens more than all the doctors pills. And now a nymph! In the mud of the boulevard I find myself a friend for the night. By her embrace the image of Dagny shall flee like the morning mist flees from the water of the Seine. A kiss and yet one more! Champagne too let the wine flow! Hello, we shall drink, until all memories vanish in drunkenness and we be blessed like gods, girl! Thats how I live, and fall more and more, and the rift widens during the night hours, until I for sheer dark cannot see how friendly the far northern star glimmers.

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Yet often the morning sun finds me in dumb despair leaned at my desk. Then I love over again and worship you, and the story begins, where I thought it ended.37 Note: The poem is part of Fallstrm's collected poems HvitaSyrener published in 1905, named Absinth and can be find on p. 62 on the same book. Here link to the book written in Swedish language http://archive.org/details/hvitasyrener00fal

37

http://www.absinthe.se/absinthe-poetry#daniel_fallstrom

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Octave Fr and Jules Cuvain

The poem below was first published in a short novel named "Les Buveursd'Absinthe", published in the French journal "Les chos de Paris", 28 May 1864. The same story was later published as a book in 1865. The novel was published over a total of twelve issues of chos de Paris, between March and May.

La Chanson de l'Absinthe
I. Salut, essence magique Salut, verbe des liqueurs! Des esprit flambeau mystique Trempe d'acier pour les coeurs. Foin de la chair! droit l'me Coule ton flot nourrissant Toi, n'es tu pas de la flamme Quand le vin n'est que du sang? II. Dans ta changeante nuance Le faible voit ou le fort, La couleur de l'esprance Ou le glacis de la mort; La verdure de la terre Ou l'pre teinte des mers, Du paradis la lumire Ou la lueur des enfers! III. O toi, l'exterminatrice Des dbiles impuissants! To nous restes protectrice, Nous, aimons l'onde orageuse. Bouleverse nos cerveaux; Nous narguons la mort frileuse, Consume-nous jusqu'aux os!

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IV. Pour notre raison ravie, Opium, haschisch et nectar, Sois le ciel dans cette vie, Qu'importe l'autre plus tarde! S'il s'ouvre sur notre tte, L'absinthe aux lvres le met: Elle aurait fait son prophte Du buveur d'eau Mahomet. A l'absinthe Trois fois sainte, Il faut un culte divin. A sa gloire, Pour ciboire, Jouvre et je donne mon sein!

Absinthe Song (English Translation by Peter Schaf for Absinthe.se, 2011)

I. Greetings magic essence Greetings, the Verb of liqueurs ! Spirit of the mystic torch Steel hardener for the hearts Grass of the flesh! Right of the soul Your nourishing stream flows You, are you not the flame When wine is only the blood? II. In your changing nuance The weak or the strong, see The color of hope Or the frosting of death; The green of the earth Or the bitter tint of the seas, A paradise of light Or the glimmer of hell! III. Oh you, exterminator Of weak imbeciles ! You remain our protector, We, love the stormy waves. Disrupting our brains; We provoke a shivery death, Consume us to the bone!
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IV. For our senses delight, Opium, hashish and nectar, You are the sky in this life, Whatever the other is later! If the sky opens on our heads, We put absinthe to our lips: She will make her prophet the drinker of uhammads water. To absinthe Three times holy, There must be a devine cult. To her glory, To drink her, I open up and give her my heart!38

Photo: People from Couvet Switzerland ca, 1880.

38

http://www.absinthe.se/absinthe-poetry#fere_and_cuvain

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Oscar Wilde (1854 1900) was an Irish writer and poet.

Known for his amazing wit and scandalous lifestyle, Wilde was the great aesthete, glorifying beauty for beauty's sake in a series of sparkling plays, poems, fairy tales and essays. In his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, a young man is corrupted by sensual indulgence and moral indifference. Wilde's lifestyle became too much for Victorian sensibilities, and he was imprisoned in 1895 for conducting a homosexual affair with Lord Alfred Douglas. Two great poems, The Ballad of Reading Gaol and De Profundis were inspired by his experiences in prison. Wilde is often mentioned as one of the great absinthe drinkers. It is however far from certain that he drank that much absinthe at all. No references to absinthe can be found in any of his own works or letters. The famous quotes about absinthe often attributed to Wilde have instead been written by other authors supposedly "quoting" Wilde. Here a quotation from Letters to the Sphinx from Oscar Wilde: With Reminiscences of the Author by Ada Leverson published in 30. Where Leverson described a conversation she had with the great with Wilde: "After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.' `How do you mean?' `I mean disassociated. Take a top-hat! You think you see it as it really is. But you don't, because you associate it with other things and ideas. If you had never heard of one before, and suddenly saw it alone, you'd be frightened, or laugh. That is the effect absinthe has, and that is why it drives men mad.' He went on, 'Three nights I sat up all night drinking absinthe, and thinking that I was singularly clearheaded and sane. The waiter came in and began watering the sawdust. The most wonderful flowers, tulips, lilies, and roses sprang up and made a garden of the cafe. "Don't you see them?" I said to him. "Mais, non, monsieur, it ny a rien."' Another quote which is often said to be Wilde describing his encounters with absinthe is the one where he compares a glass of absinthe to the beauty of a sunset. What's interesting is that this is actually not at all a description of Wilde describing his taste for absinthe but rather him describing the typical decadent conception of absinthe in his talking about English symbolist poet Edgar Dowson - a friend of his, and a well-known absinthe drinker and absinthe's effects on Dowson. He points out though, that if Dowson didn't drink so much absinthe, he just wouldn't be Dowson... He mentions this in a conversation with Norwegian landscape painter Christian Krohg and Norwegian impressionist painter Frits Thaulow in Thaulow's home in Dieppe, France. Christian Krohg writes this in his book "I smaaDagsreisertilogfra Paris" (In little Day trips to and from Paris), published in 1897;

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"He is very talented! I am a great admirer of his. But it is a shame, it's so sad, that he staggers so much and drinks too much Absinthe." Oscar Wilde shrugged his shoulders: "If he didn't do that, he would be quite a different person. Il faut accepter la personnalit comme elle est. Il ne faut jamais regretter qu'un pote est sol, il faut regretter que les sols ne soient pas toujours potes." "Well, it doesn't matter, whatever you say. The worst is, that I think that what he drinks is Absinthe, and that is so devastating." "Absinthe," Wilde answered, "has a lovely colour, la couleurverte. Ilfautmaintenantboire des choses vertes. A glass of Absinthe is as poetic as every other thing. Quelle diffrence y a't-il entre un verre d'absinthe et un coucher de soleil?"39

Swiss Kbler Absinthe 1896.

39

http://www.absinthe.se/absinthe-drinkers/oscar-wilde

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Jrme Douce, 19th century poet who wrote

"Chaussuresd'antan" (1913). The image is a painting by Albert Maignan, "The Green Muse" made circa 1895, which was inspiration for the poem.

Chanson de lAbsinthe (1905)

Adore ainsi qu'une sainte, Baise autant quune maitresse, Je suis la fidle traitresse, Le poison, le baume,-l'absinthe. Je suis l'le toujours ouverte Au rveur naufrag qui souffre, Un ciel de flammes et de soufre, L'intarissable muse verte Close au cristal de mes rivages, Je suis une mer d'meraude O toujours la tempte rde, Mais dissimule ses ravages. Je suis le lourd hamac qui berce Les douleurs d'amoureux mensonges, Je suis l'oubli, je suis le songe, Le dsert sans fin qu'on traverse, La roue invisible et dente Qui doucement saisit et broie, Le sphinx qui se fait une proie De ce qui passe sa porte.
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Il est le mien celui qui me goute Gris par ma senteur perverse, Regarde ce peuple qui verse, En tremblotant, l'eau goutte goutte Sans voir - esclave de mes charmes, Et fidle jusqu' la tombe Que chaque goutte d'eau qui tombe Dans un ocan profond des larmes.40

Absinthe postcard ca.1900

40

http://feverte.skyrock.com/345631887-Chanson-a-l-Abinsthe.html

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Closing words - The story of the Absinthe poem collection

This Absinthe poetry collection was given out on request by Roger Liggenstorfer from Nachtschatten Verlag, Solothurn. We maintain one of the richest Absinthe culture page on Facebook which is called The Psychedelic Fairy - Absinthe Culture Page. The page contains a very large collection of the Absinthe culture where can be found various works of art with Absinthe as a main subject matter, like: poster art, art paintings from all the famous artists, historical etiquettes, historical Absinthe photos and postcards, antique Absinthe tools like a Absinthe fountains, spoons, trippers, various Absinthe grilles, various absinthe glasses from the epoch, antique Absinthe bottles all around 1900, historical Absinthe Labels (tiquettes), Absinthe videos and 100 high class notes all about absinthe and the time of the Belle poque up to the modern days and many more for the interested Absintheur and for all people interested in the Absinthe culture and history. The Psychedelic Fairy Absinthe Culture Page is a page with a main purpose to develop and share the Absinthe Culture and Art, inspired by the Green Fairy in the 19th and 20th century and up to this days with a proper foundation. This Page is a Page for Information and we support all Absinthe pages, Producer and Shops etc,. The idea is only for collecting infos and knowledge in a form of open sources without any competition to each other. Simple the goal is to develop the Absinthe culture again like it was in the Absinthe high times before. The Psychedelic Fairy is founded by three people: Shri Krishan Puri comes from Switzerland, he grow up in the Absinthe Region of Switzerland, he was following continually the history, the culture and the rituals of the Absinthe, during the underground times of the Absinthe culture, with a big interest. Through many years of research he have seen the inner value, the spiritual question and the search for the source and it brings him always back to one matter, the Absinthe, because of this Absinthe culture in the region, many artists, thinkers, philosophers, writers have made their quantum leap and get spiritually richer from it. He is the main Instructor of the Psychedelic Fairy Page. Jasmina Kotevska is graduated art historian, which right now is working on her masters degree in contemporary art, particularly on the subject: The psychoactive substances (Cannabis, Hashish, Opium, Cocaine, Absinthe (Alcohol) in the art during the time of the Belle poque, their usage and their influence on the artistic creativity. Jasmina is the main translator from the Psychedelic Fairy Page and researcher through the artistic historical facts. She is our good fairy in all that game Jack Thompson has a big knowledge at theme Absinthe, culture and Absinthe antiques, he also has made an Absinthe-Blog which is very nice and proper. He is our Gourmet, in the past 15 years he tried over 300 different brands and also he is a real Absinthe antique collector and connoisseur with all the heart you need for.
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Bibliography
1. Raoul Ponchon, La Muse au Cabaret, BIBLIOTHQUE-CHARPENTIER, EUGENE FASQUELLE, CITEUR, 1920, Paris, p. 199,204,207 2. Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal, Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, 1857, Paris, p. 61, 105 3. CHARLES BAUDELAIRE, Les Fleurs Du Mal, translation by RICHARD HOWARD, David R. Godine Publisher 1983, p. 33, 54 4. Strindberg, August, 1849-1912, Selected poems of August Strindberg /edited and translated by Lotta . L fgren. arbondale : Southern Illinois niversity Press, c2002, p.46 5. August Strindberg, Dikterpversochprosa, Publisher: Bonnier 1883, Book from the collections of: Oxford University, p.152 6. Strindberg, I vrbrytningen, online Internet Archive - Project Gutenberg 7. Wallace Fowlie, Seth Adam Whidden, Rimbaud: Complete Works, Selected Letters : a Bilingual Edition, University of Chicago Press, 2005, p.176/177 8. BetinaWittels, Robert Hermesch, T. A. Breaux, Absinthe: Sip of Seduction: A Contemporary Guide, Speck Press, p. 16 9. The poems of Ernest Dowson, with a memoir by Arthur Symons, four illustrations by Aubrey Breadsley and a portrait by William Rothenstein, DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, New York 1922, p. 148 10. Charles Cros, Le Coffret de santal, AncienneLibrairie TRESSE & STOCK 1908, Book from the collections of: University of Michigan, p. 45, 77 11. Donald Evans, Sonnets from Patagonian, Published by Nicholas L. Brown 1918, p. 51 12. It Happened in Nordland, IBDB Internet Broadway Database http://www.ibdb.com/production.php?id=5964 13. Maurice Rollinat, Les nvroses: Les mes-Les luxuries-Les refuges-Les spectres-Les tnbres, G. Charpentier, Editeur, 1883, Paris, p. 270 14. Guillaume Apollinaire, Alcools pomes 1898-1913, Soixante-huitime d. Gallimard 1920, Paris, p. 111 15. Charles Monselet, De Montmartre Sville, Achille Faure, Libraire diteur, Paris 1865, p. 16 16. Arthur Symons, Silhouettes, Leonard Smithers, London/George H. Richmond and CO., New York, 1896, p. 32 17. Phil Baker, The Book of Absinthe: A Cultural History, Grove Press, 2003, p. 230 18. Joyce Kilmer, Summer of Love, The Baker & Taylor Company, New York, 1911, p. 58 19. The Poems of Emily Dickinson, ed. By Martha Dickinson Bianchi and Alfred LeeteHampson, Little, Brown, and Company, Boston, 1930, p. 12

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Web sources: http://www.absinthe.se, English translation http://www.museeabsinthe.com/absintheLIVRES8.html ttp://www.oxygenee.com http://hermetic.com/ http://www.inabsinthia.com http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/song_show_lyrics/11213308 http://jhelbach.de/ http://agora.qc.ca/documents/absinthe--ode_a_labsinthe_par_alfred_de_musset August http://www.vintagevenus.com.au/bohemia/eblinks/spirboho/paris1830/verlaine/verlaine.h tml [Littrature franaise en dition lectronique]. Paul Verlaine (1844 6). Daprs le Tome III des OEuvres compltes de Paul Verlaine chez Lon Vanier (1901), p. 9 http://www.scribd.com/doc/188381/Verlaine-P-Dedicaces http://calquezine.blogspot.com/2007/03/paul-valry-les-vaines-danseuses.html http://feverte.skyrock.com/345631887-Chanson-a-l-Abinsthe.html Copyright and intellectual rights of scientific publications:
The copyright and intellectual right exists, already with the creation of a scientific publication work, not only with the performance or publication. Scientific publication work falls as well automatically under national property of every graduated person. THE ABSINTHEURS POETRY COLLECTION of Jamina Kotevska falls under this specific category. THE ABSINTHEURS POETRY COLLECTION is just a small part of Jamina Kotevska academical Master's theses in scientific contemporary art which will be legally presented at 2013 at the Faculty of Philosophy Department of Art History and Archaeology at the Ss. Cyril and Methodius University Skopje in Macedonia. All intellectual rights belong to Jasmina Kotevska graduated art historian. She has given the right of publishing and promotion of her work exclusively to the Psychedelic Fairy founders as a member and scientific leader of the Psychedelic Fairy-Absinthe culture page.

All the intellectual rights of the original translations, photos, painting and poster-art belong to the original sources which is declared exactly in : The web sources, list of reproductions and in the bibliography. If there is something missing or someone wants a correction please contact j.kotevska@gmail.com. Or contact the address below Jamina Kotevska Suvodol, DemirHisar 7240 Republic of Macedonia Tel. No. + 389 78 618 704

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List of reproductions:
1. Raoul Ponchon, LES ANNALES, 08. 02. 1903, source:http://raoulponchon.blogspot.ch/search/label/Ponchon%20dessin-photo 2. Charles Baudelaire, original photo by tienne Carjat, ca. 1863. 3. August Strindberg self-portrait Gersau, 1886. 4. tienne Carjat, Portrait of Arthur Rimbaud at the age of seventeen, c. 1872 5. Ernest Dowson, Image from The Poems of Ernest Dowson (London: John Lane, 1905): http://www.archive.org/details/poemsofernestdow00dowsuoft 6. Alphonse Allais, unknown photographer, 1900/1. 7. A black and white photograph of the English ceremonial magician Aleister Crowley. Copyright is owned by the OrdoTempliOrientis. 8. Charles Cros, unknown photographer, source Wikipedia. 9. Maurice Rollinat, source Wikipedia. 10. Albert Giraud, unknown photographer, 1890. Source Wikipedia. 11. Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918) in 1914. Photo taken by photo booth machine in Paris on August 1, 1914 (One photo of a series of photo booth pictures with Andr Rouveyre - Cropped image). Collection of Marcel Adma. Source Wikipedia. 12. Alfred de Musset, portrait by Charles Landelle, 1854. 13. Portrait of Charles Monselet by Gaston Vuillier, 1892. 14. Arthur Symons, St. John's Wood, September 22nd, 1906, photo by Coburn, Alvin Langdon. 15. Verlaine drinking absinthe in the Caf Franois 1er in 1892, photographed by Paul MarsanDornac. 16. Portrait of French poet Gustave Kahn, before 1936. Unknown author. Source Wikipedia. 17. Joyce Kilmer, Source http://www.dejaelaine.com/kilmer.php 18. Daguerreotype of the poet Emily Dickinson, taken circa 1848. (Original version.) From the Todd-Bingham Picture Collection and Family Papers, Yale University Manuscripts & Archives Digital Images Database, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut, circa 1848. 19. Paul Valry, source : http://www.oregonrepublicanparty.org/quotes/author/Paul%20Valery 20. Daniel Fallstrm around 1900. Picture postcard P.H.1957. Unknown photographer. 21. Octave Fr and Jules Cuvain, "Les Buveursd'Absinthe", published in the French journal "Les chos de Paris", 28 May 1864. 22. Oscar Wilde, photograph taken in 1882 by Napoleon Sarony. 23. Albert Maignan, "The Green Muse" made circa 1895.

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THE ABSINTHEURS POETRY COLLECTION

by various authors is a fine herb historical poetry collection, every Absintheur will have a deep experience of the time Belle poque and from the fantastic poetic creativity of that time.
The Psychedelic Fairy2012