With a NASA infrared image of the Milky Way in the background, Charles Baudelaire witnesses the detonation of "Chama" (1 megaton, Johnson Isl., 18 October 1962), diminutive in the bottom left against the intergalactic vastness. The Central Scrutinizer's translation of Baudelaire's poem "Le Voyage" follows.

Le Voyage

I

For the child in love with maps and engravings, The universe matches his vast appetite. How big the world is that the lamplight illumines, How small it becomes in remembrance's sight. Alight with excitement, one morning we leave, Spite and desire embittering our hearts, Going forth upon the rhythms of the seas, Finite oceans where our infinity starts. Some go to escape their homeland's disgrace, Others flee the traps life has put in their way. Astrologers sail away from the gaze Of Circe and her scents' hypnotic sway.

Immensities of space and burning skies Free them of beasthood. Her spell is annulled By cruel suns' injuries and biting ice Awakening senses that her kisses dulled. But the only true travellers are those who began For the journey's sake, their hearts light as balloons, Unflinchingly following destiny's plan, Always hoping to meet with the future soon. The sky is filled with their blinding desires. Like new recruits lost in triumphal dreams They brood on flesh, on passion's secret fires, On pleasures for which reason has no names.

II

Like grotesque toys, we are flung about, Shaken and dropped. Sleep offers little rest. Curiosity cheats us, racks us with doubt, Is an angel without pity in her breast. What is the point of our strange destinies, Unfixed as water, evasive as mist? Goaded by hope we run seeking peace, Like madmen for whom peace cannot exist. The soul is a tall ship seeking its haven, Its master commanding us all to take care, While high on a mast a wild voice is raving Of love and of glory. Rocks loom everywhere.

Every island he reports is a golden land, Our destined paradise at last in sight. Imagination makes its lavish plans, Then finds a bare reef in the morning light. Must he be chained, then cast into the sea, This pitiful lover of lands he invents? -- This drunken sailor whose discoveries Only make life's bitterness more intense. He's like an old tramp stepping through the dung, Nose in the air, lost in some dreamer's maze, And any hovel where a light is hung Looks fabulous to his deluded gaze.

III

"You amaze us, travellers, with exalted stories We read in the ocean depths of your eyes. Open your caskets of memories and glories, Jewels wrought from starlight in magical skies.

We crave such excitement, our days are so tame, Enliven this tedium where we're confined, Casting visions that the far horizons frame Across these empty screens that are our minds. Tell us, what have you seen?"

IV

XXXX "We've looked at the stars, The billowing oceans and the endless sand. Despite the shocks and wild exotica, We often found life tedious and bland. The sun resplendent on the violet seas, Fantastic cities held in dusk's red glow, Awoke within us an acute unease, A wish to plunge into the depths below. The richest cities, the loveliest landscapes, Never held such mysteries of attraction As those that cloud accidentally shapes, And desire bred anxious dissatisfaction. Enjoyment increases the force of desire. It's pleasure that sustains this ancient tree. Growing broader and stronger, its branches climb higher, Reaching up to embrace the sun constantly.

Will it always grow bigger, this liveliest of trees That is stronger than death? But, look, we'll select Some sketches it seems you're so anxious to see, Thinking beauty is something that distance perfects. There were idols with elephants' trunks to behold And thrones constellated with luminous jewels; We saw palaces magically raised in pure gold That would bankrupt the dreams of materialist fools. You'd go dizzy to look at the costumes we saw, There were women who painted their teeth and their nails, Fakirs with snakes wrapped around them, and more . . . "

V

"What else, please, what else?"

VI

XXXXXXXXXXX "These are infantile tales! Let's not forget the gravest thing of all -- Wherever we went it was always the same, Immortal sin held all mankind in thrall, In servitude to universal shame: That vile slave woman's proud stupidity Of self-love, without laughter or disgust; The slave's slave, man, cruel in cupidity, Reclining in the gutter of his lust; The hangman at play, the martyr who weeps, The blood that the feasting spices and seasons; The poison of power that robs despots of sleep, Mobs loving the lash that is stunting their reason;

Several religions resembling our own, All ladders to heaven; the pious self-denying, Seduced by the pains through which they atone, Loving the ashes in which they are lying; Drunk on its spirit, babbling humanity, Just as deranged as it's been hitherto, Shrieking to God in a fury of agony, 'My likeness, my master, my curse upon You!' Least absurd, the intrepid lovers of madness, Fleeing from the herd that destiny's caught, Who seek for their refuge in opium's vastness -- That's the whole world, the eternal report."

VII

The wisdom is bitter that travelling imparts. Small and monotonous, the world must go on Reflecting one image of the human heart, An oasis of horror in barren oblivion. Should we leave? Should we stay? Remain, if you can, Go if you must. Some run, while others hide To outwit Time, who guards our mortal span. Some flee forever, find no place to abide, Like the apostles or the Wandering Jew, Discovering no means by land or by sea To escape the net. There are others who Learn to murder Time in their infancy. When we finally feel his foot trap our necks We will look to the future with hope and good cheer, As when, bound for China, we stood on the decks, The wind in our hair, our gaze without fear.

We shall set sail upon that shadowed sea Like youthful travellers, out beyond dismay. Do you hear those voices in a spectral key Singing their invitations, "Come this way, To find the scented lotus flowers we tend, Those fabled fruits your hearts seek as their prize. Here, afternoon will never have have an end, Come, eat and dream in this strange paradise. A voice we recognise calls from our goal As dear arms reach out to us from the shore, "Swim to your love, refresh your innermost soul", Says she whom long ago we first adored.

VIII

It's time, Death, old captain, so weigh anchor now. This land bores us, Death, so let's get underway. Though the sea and the sky are blackening with cloud, You know that our hearts are full of bright rays.

Pour out a draught of your comforting poison, Its fire inspires our minds to break through, To plunge, be it Heaven or Hell, in the chasm, Into unknown depths to find something new.