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  Chant d’Automne Perfume Oil

  I
  Soon we will sink in the frigid darkness
  Good-bye, brightness of our too short summers!
  I already hear the fall in distress
  Of the wood falling in the paved courtyard.

  Winter will invade my being: anger,
  Hatred, chills, horror, hard and forced labor,
  And, like the sun in its iced inferno,
  My heart is but a red and frozen floe.

  I hear with shudders each weak limb that falls.
  The scaffold will have no louder echo.
  My spirit is like a tower that yields
  Under the tireless and heavy ram blow.

  It seems, lulled by this monotonous sound,
  Somewhere a coffin is hastily nailed,
  For whom? Summer yesterday, autumn now!
  This mysterious noise sounds like a farewell.

  II
  I love the greenish light of your long eyes,
  Sweet beauty, but all is bitter today.
  Nothing, not love, the boudoir or the hearth
  Is dearer than the sunshine on the sea.

  Still love me, tender heart! Be a mother
  Even to the ingrate, to the wicked,
  Lover, sister, ephemeral sweetness
  Of fall’s glory or of the setting sun.

  Short-lived task! The tomb awaits, merciless.
  Ah! Let me, my head resting on your knees,
  Savor, regretting the white hot summer,
  The autumn’s last rays yellow and tender.

  The scent of the year’s fall and the setting sun, ominous and foreboding: dried leaves, charred wood, blood musk, amber, khus, and Nicotiana tabacum.

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  And skeletons dancing to a tune;
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  They woke, and sought to go their ways,
  Yet everywhere they met her gaze,
  Her fixed and burning eyes.

  Dry white sandalwood with a flicker of amber, blood musk, and red pepper.

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  A Robe All Red With Dripping Gore Perfume Oil

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  Men Will Fall to Her Darkness Perfume Oil

  And those who call the shadows home will rise again. A haze of blood musk, myrrh, blackened lavender buds, labdanum, and opoponax.

  Hellboy in Theaters Now.

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