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I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.

Arthur Rimbaud

I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Misfortune Parents Religion Slave Yourself
As I descended into impassable rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Guide Leadership Myself Ocean River
I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Sky Under
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Burn Dreams Inspirational Myself One Liner Soft
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Bitter Cry Heart Broken Moon Myself Sun True
And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Dreams Man Myself Poem Sea Time
The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Hard Time Philosophy Suffering Wisdom
Yet this is the watch by night. Let us all accept new strength, and real tenderness. And at dawn, armed with glowing patience, we will enter the cities of glory.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Acceptance Glory Night Patience Reality Strength Tender
I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alone Himself Key Possession
True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Creativity Formula Impulse Memories Nourish True
Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Childhood Discover Genius
What an old maid I’m getting to be. Lacking the courage to be in love with death!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Courage Death Love Myself Old
The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Animal Consumption Himself Leaves Myself Wolf
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

Himself Journey Poet Poison Travel
As for me, I am intact; and I don’t care.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Care Myself Philosophy
It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense, That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Body Break Human Mad Soft Voice

I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.

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I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.

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