The poet, therefore, is truly the thief of fire. He is responsible for humanity, for animals even; he will have to make sure his visions can be smelled, fondled, listened to; if what he brings back from beyond has form, he gives it form; if it has none, he gives it none. A language must… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud
In summer evenings blue, pricked by the wheat On rustic paths the thin grass I shall tread, And feel its freshness underneath my feet, And, dreaming, let the wind bathe my bare head, I shall not speak, nor think, but, walking slow Through Nature, I shall rove with Love my guide, As gipsies wander, where,… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud
Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter. — Arthur Rimbaud, from “The Drunken Boat,” Complete Works, Selected Letters (The University of Chicago Press, 2005)
And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down. ― Arthur Rimbaud, from “The Drunken Boat,” A Season in Hell/The Drunken Boat. (New Directions January 17, 1961) Originally published 1837.
A tap of your finger on the drum releases all sounds and initiates the new harmony. A step of yours is the conscription of the new men and their marching orders. You look away: the new love! You look back,—the new love! “Change our fates, shoot down the plagues, beginning with… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud
Chariots of copper and of silver – Prows of silver and steel – Thresh upon the foam, – Upheave the stumps and brambles. The currents of the heath, And the enormous ruts of the ebb, Flow circularly toward the east, Toward the pillars of the forest, – Toward the boles of the jetty, Against whose… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud
The sun has wept rose in the shell of your ears, The world has rolled white from your back, your thighs; The sea has stained rust the crimson of your breasts, And Man has bled black at your sovereign side. — Arthur Rimbaud, “The Sun Has Wept Rose,” Complete Works. Trans. Paul Schmidt. (Harper Perennial… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud