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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.

Arthur Rimbaud

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
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Erase Hope Human Myself Soul
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 wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Name Night Poet Record Silence Writing
The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Hard Time Philosophy Suffering Wisdom
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
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
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Monster Problem Soul Transformation
I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

God Myself Ocean Tears
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
O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Enchantment Flaw Myself Season Soul
I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Expression Myself Silence Understand Voice
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
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
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Himself Pain Poet
Morality is the weakness of the mind.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Mindset Moral Weakness

Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.

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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.

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