Charles Baudelaire - De Profundis Clamavi (ft. translation by Jack Collings Squire) lyrics

O my sole love, I pray thee pity me From out this dark gulf where my poor heart lies A barren world hemmed in by leaden skies Where horror flies at night, and blasphemy. For half the year the sickly sun is seen, The other half thick night lies on the land, A country bleaker than the polar strand; No beasts, no brooks, nor any shred of green. There never was a horror which surpa**ed This icy sun's cold cruelty, and this vast Night like primaeval Chaos; would I were Like the dumb brutes, who in a secret lair Lie wrapt in stupid slumber for a space... The time creeps at so burdensome a pace.