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It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense,/ That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.
Arthur Rimbaud
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Arthur Rimbaud
Age: 37 †
Born: 1854
Born: October 20
Died: 1891
Died: November 10
Arms Trader
Explorer
Poet
World Traveler
Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud
Jean Nicholas Arthur Rimbaud
Immense
Soft
Mad
Roaring
Sea
Seas
Voice
Shattered
Human
Infant
Humans
Breast
Breasts
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O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
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I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent
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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
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To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?
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It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
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Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
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