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Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.

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
Hearts
Wine
Remember
Wells
Well
Wines
Heart
Flowed
Life
Feast
Opened

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I'm intact, and I don't give a damn.
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Here I am on the shore of Brittany. Let the cities light up in the evening. My day is done. I am leaving Europe. The sea air will burn my lungs. Lost climates will tan me. I will swim, trample the grass, hung, and smoke especially. I will drink alcohol as strong as boiling metal--just as my dear ancestors did around their fires.
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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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Faith assuages, guides, restores.
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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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Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
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Idle youth, enslaved to everything by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
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. . . be absolute moderne.
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I wrote silences nights I recorded the unnameable.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
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No one's serious at seventeen.
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Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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Oh! If only we were naked now, and free to watch our protruding parts align To whisper - both of us - in ecstasy!
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Je est un autre. (I is someone else).
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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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I invented the colors of the vowels!--A black, E white, I red, O blue, U green--I made rules for the form and movement of each consonant, and, and with instinctive rhythms, I flattered myself that I had created a poetic language accessible, some day, to all the senses.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
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-But I've just noticed that my mind is asleep.
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I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
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You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
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