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Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.

Arthur Rimbaud

Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don’t know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Body Death Existence Kill Strength Weakness Yourself
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Divine Key Knowledge Love
What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Unknown Wait Yourself
As I descended into impassable rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Guide Leadership Myself Ocean River
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 turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Night Silence Stand Word World Writing
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life One Liner Performance
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Himself Pain Poet
The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Kiss Light Rise Sea
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
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
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
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Erase Hope Human Myself Soul
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 shed more tears than God could ever have required.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

God Myself Ocean Tears
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Thinking Wrong

Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.

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Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.

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