TAMARIN

Saint Barthélemy - Villa

The Tamarin is the fruit of the tamarind tree, a tropical tree with a large trunk, native to East Africa, and brought to life by the poet Charles Baudelaire.
Villa Tamarin is surrounded by lush greenery, like a solitary and providential haven of peace. The place called Lurin is only a few minutes away from the dreamy sands of St Jean beach. With 3 bedrooms, this villa can accommodate 3 couples or a large family. Its swimming pool, on the ground floor, is submerged in the forest canopy while the upper floor contains the ultimate reward: the turquoise blue of the Caribbean Sea will reach your heart when you least expect it. Alternating between the coast and inland, your agenda will follow the thread of your moods. If you prefer to stay inland, enjoy the French dishes from the excellent restaurant Le Tamarin, located very close to the Villa.  

En Anglais, je n’ai trouvé que cette traduction d’un autre poème de Charles Baudelaire « A une Malabaraise » (tiré de son recueil Les Fleurs du Mal).
To a Malabar Woman
Your feet are as slender as your hands and your hips
Are broad; they'd make the fairest white woman jealous;
To the pensive artist your body's sweet and dear;
Your wide, velvety eyes are darker than your skin.
In the hot blue country where your God had you born
It is your task to light the pipe of your master,
To keep the flasks filled with cool water and perfumes,
To drive far from his bed the roving mosquitoes,
And as soon as morning makes the plane-trees sing, to
Buy pineapples and bananas at the bazaar.
All day long your bare feet follow your whims,
And, very low, you hum old, unknown melodies;
And when evening in his scarlet cloak descends,
You stretch out quietly upon a mat and there
Your drifting dreams are full of humming-birds and are
Like you, always pleasant and adorned with flowers.
Why, happy child, do you wish to see France,
That over-peopled country which suffering mows down,
And entrusting your life to the strong arms of sailors,
Bid a last farewell to your dear tamarinds?
You, half-dressed in filmy muslins,
Shivering over there in the snow and the hail,
How you would weep for your free, pleasant leisure, if,
With a brutal corset imprisoning your flanks,
You had to glean your supper in our muddy streets
And sell the fragrance of your exotic charms,
With pensive eye, following in our dirty fogs
The sprawling phantoms of the absent coco palms!

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

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Bedroom(s)

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Bathroom(s)

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General

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