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

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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 shed more tears than God could ever have required.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

God Myself Ocean Tears
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Appearance Children Fashion Greatness
One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Beautiful Bitter Evening Myself Taste
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Himself Pain Poet
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Criticism Judgement Proper
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
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Divine Key Knowledge Love
Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Forever Nature Sea Sun
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
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
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Erase Hope Human Myself Soul
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
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?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Admire Blood Evil Heart Image Monster Myself
I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alone Himself Key Possession
Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Best Country Drink Hate Myself Sleep
I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Sky Under
As I descended into impassable rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Guide Leadership Myself Ocean River
I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Name Night Poet Record Silence Writing
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.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Blood Burn Dreams Heart Myself Soft Time Tree
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
Morality is the weakness of the mind.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Mindset Moral Weakness
I could never throw Love out of the window.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Love Myself Window
And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! – But the great Faith is Love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Faith God Greatness Love Man Philosophy
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? – Through whose blood am I to wade ?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Blood Break Heart Lying Myself
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.

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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.

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Popular Authors

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