I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
Added by Lucian Velea
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Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
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Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
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I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
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But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
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I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
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I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.
quote by Arthur Rimbaud
Added by Lucian Velea
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Seascape (Marine)
Chariots of copper and of silver--
Prows of silver and steel--
Thresh upon the foam,--
Upheavals 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 edge whirlwinds of light collide.
poem by Arthur Rimbaud
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Faun's Head
Among the foliage, green casket flecked with gold;
in the uncertain foliage that blossoms
with gorgeous flowers where sleeps the kiss,
vivid, and bursting through the sumptuous tapestry,
a startled faun shows his two eyes
and bites the crimson flowers with his white teeth.
Stained and ensanguined like mellow wine,
his mouth bursts out in laughter beneath the branches.
And when he has fled - like a squirrel -
his laughter still vibrates on every leaf,
and you can see, startled by a bullfinch,
the Golden Kiss of the Wood,
gathering itself together again.
poem by Arthur Rimbaud
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Song Of The Highest Tower
Idle youth
Enslaved to everything,
By being too sensitive
I have wasted my life.
Ah ! Let the time come
When hearts are enamoured.
I said to myself : let be,
And let no one see you :
Do without the promise
Of higher joys.
Let nothing delay you,
Majestic retirement.
I have endured so long
That I have forgotten everything ;
Fear and suffering
Have flown to the skies.
And morbid thirst
Darkens my veins.
[...] Read more
poem by Arthur Rimbaud
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