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Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.

Arthur Rimbaud

The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Affection Burn Delight Earth Heart Life Love Sun
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
I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Believe Hell Myself
It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Beginning Myself Night Research Silence
I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Dance Gold Myself Rope Star Window
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Eternity Forever Nature Sea Sun
I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Expression Myself Silence Understand Voice
The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Kiss Light Rise Sea
Morality is the weakness of the mind.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Mindset Moral Weakness
And I am still alive-what though, my damnation is eternal. A man who deliberately mutilates himself is truly damned, is he not? I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alive Believe Forever Hell Man Myself True
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alcohol Bitter Love Poetry Strong
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? – Through whose blood am I to wade ?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Blood Break Heart Lying Myself
My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Compare Myself Wait Wisdom
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
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.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Action Brain Fate Force Happiness Life Moral Waste Way Weakness
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Himself Pain Poet

Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.

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Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.

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