-
J'allais sous le ciel, Muse! et j'étais ton féal.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
J'ai embrassé l'aube d'été.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
-But I've just noticed that my mind is asleep.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Je me suis baigné dans le PoèmeDe la Mer...Dévorant les azurs verts.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Un soir, j'ai assis la Beauté sur mes genoux. - Et je l'ai trouvée amère. - Et je l'ai injuriée.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Plus léger qu'un bouchon j'ai dansé sur les flots.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Je parvins à faire s'évanouir dans mon esprit toute l'espérance humaine.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Il pleut doucement sur la ville.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
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 be found…of the soul, for the soul and will include everything: perfumes, sounds colors, thought grappling with thought.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Misfortune was my god.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
And from then on, I bathed in the Poem of the Sea, star-infused, and opalescent, devouring green azures.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Unhappiness was my god.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
The poet makes himself a voyant through a long, immense reasoned deranging of all his senses. All the forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he tries to find himself, he exhausts in himself all the poisons, to keep only their quintessences.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
He would say, "How funny it will all seem, all you've gone through, when I'm not here anymore, when you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes, because I will have to go away some day, far away..." And in that instant I could feel myself with him gone, dizzy with fear, sinking down into the most horrible blackness: into death.
Arthur Rimbaud
-
Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
Arthur Rimbaud
