Are you ready to sail away?

Poetry sometimes can make you dream, escape from reality and sail to a world of fantasy. this poem has a very realxing effect on me, i almost get high on it.
i did translate it from Beaudelaire's Petit poemes en prose:

Let me breath for a long time, a long time, the smell of your hair, to plunge my face in it, like a man fades in the water of a spring, to wave it with my hand like you would wave a scented hanky, to stir souvenirs in the air.
If only you knew all I see, all I smell, all I hear in you hair! My soul travels on the perfume like the soul of other men travels on music.
You hair holds a whole dream, full of sails, it contains seas with winds that take me to charming climates, where the skies are blue and deep, and where the atmosphere is scented by the fruits, the leaves and the human skin.
In the ocean of your hair, I catch a glimpse of a port, swarming with melancholic melodies, of strong men of all nations, of vessels of all shapes carving their fine and complicated architecture in an immense sky where the eternal heat luxuriates.
while caressing your hair, I rejoin the lassitude of the long hours spent on the couch, in a room inside a beautiful ship rocked by the elusive rolling of the port, between the flower pots and the refreshing water jugs.
In the burning hotbed of your hair, I smell the odor of tobacco blended with opium and sucre, In the night of your hair I see the sparkling of the tropical blue sky. On the shores of the peach fuzz of your hair I get drunk from the odor of musk and coco oil.
Let me bite for a long time the black and heavy braids. When I nibble your rebel and elastic hair, It seems like I am eating souvenirs.