Rimbaud Poems - Poems about Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud Translations of Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”), Rêvé Pour l'hiver (“Winter Dream”), and Dawn Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”) by Arthur Rimbaud loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Graceful son of Pan! Around your brow, crowned with flowers and berries, your eyes, lustrous spheres, revolve. Your cheeks, stained with wine sediments, seem hollow. Your white fangs gleam. Your lyre-like...

Continue reading...

Le Bateau ivre (“The Drunken Boat”), an Excerpt by Arthur Rimbaud translation by Michael R. Burch The impassive river carried me downstream as howling warriors slashed the bargemen's throats, then nailed them, naked, to their former posts, while I observed all idly, in a dream. What did I care about the slaughtered crew, the Flemish barley or the English freight? The river had taught...

Continue reading...

Song of the Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud translation by Michael R. Burch Let it come, let it come, The day when all hearts love as one. I’ve endured so long That I’d even forgotten The pain and the terror. I’ve visited heaven, And yet a morbid thirst Still darkens my veins. Let it come, let it come, The day when all hearts love as one. Thus the...

Continue reading...

POEMS ABOUT OPHELIA Ophélie (“Ophelia”) by Arthur Rimbaud translation by Michael R. Burch On pitiless black waves unsinking stars abide while pale Ophelia, a lethargic lily, drifts by. Here, tangled in her veils, she floats on the tide. Far-off, in the woods, we hear the strident bugle’s cry. For a thousand years, or more, sad Ophelia, This albescent phantom, has rocked here, to and...

Continue reading...

pact fusion hath brewed welds cauldron spewed spit fiery sparse talents biformed renowned oddity affair ardent youth pose statuesque fragile innards touch grotesque bursts end aggression severs espousal rapport guilt aspires realist soars...

Continue reading...

As I reach my hand twords the light, I see you. I feel you. You must see me too, my love. Its almost as if your still here. You we're the one person that mde me feel, the one person I could rely on when I was in need. And I killed you. I shot you. I shot and killed...

Continue reading...

The roads leading away circle the distances and seem to go nowhere. They seed the horizon with promises, disorganising the senses and reason until there is only a hole, a dark cave into the interior. Effigies stare out of the dark cloaked in symbols that can only be deciphered by the soul. This is the language of the visionary, gifted seer of the modern....

Continue reading...

If I'd been embraced I wouldn't write like I do; I would feel loved. I'd be complacent like you. But that's not my fate. I am burned in the fire and when you ignore me the flames keep burning higher. So please, by all means continue, leave me alone. Go ahead. Watch me. Watch me burn down to the bone....

Continue reading...

Il pleure dans mon coeur (“It rains in my heart”) by Paul Verlaine loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch It rains in my heart As it rains on the town; Heavy languor and dark Drenches my heart. Oh, the sweet-sounding rain Cleansing pavements and roofs! For my listless heart's pain The pure song of the rain! Still it rains without reason In my overcast heart. Can it be...

Continue reading...

He views the world in the most subtle of ways Eyes like a fly, searching everything around, seeing All in millisecond detail He sees not the flower or the thorn, but the Emerald light of photosynthesis from which it grows; In the woman, he envisions not her curves of ecstasy But the radiant glow of each scale Skin soaking up light His...

Continue reading...