Rimbaud, Arthur - Une Saison en Enfer. Translated by A. O sorceresses, O misery, O hatred, it was to you my treasure was entrusted! I managed to erase all human hope from my mind. I made the wild beast. I summoned plagues, to stifle myself with sand and blood. Misfortune was my god. I stretched out in the mud. RIMBAUD ARTHUR UNE SAISON EN ENFER . Une saison en enfer (1991) M. Being connected with Rimbaud's poetic themes, Ferr. Text : Arthur Rimbaud. Une saison en enfer d'Arthur Rimbaud: Le « raisonn? PDF Producer:-PDF Version:-Page Count:-Close. Poesies Une Saison En Enfer Illuminations Broche Arthur Rimbaud. 17-09-2016 2/2 Poesies Une Saison En Enfer Illuminations Broche Arthur Rimbaud. Other Files Available to Download I dried myself in the breezes of crime. And I played some fine tricks on madness. And spring brought me the dreadful laugh of the idiot. Now, just lately, finding myself on the point of uttering the last croak, I thought of seeking the key to the old feast, where I might perhaps find my appetite again! Charity is the key . And while awaiting my few cowardly little deeds, for you who prize in a writer the lack of descriptive or instructive skill, for you, I tear off these few hideous pages from my notebook of a damned soul. Rimbaud - Une Saison en Enfer: A Season in Hell: translation. Poetry in Translation. Home; Books; News; About; Contact; Search. Poesies Une Saison En Enfer Illuminations Broche Arthur Rimbaud. 18-09-2016 2/2 Poesies Une Saison En Enfer Illuminations Broche Arthur Rimbaud. Other Files Available to Download Une Saison en Enfer est le seul ouvrage qu'Arthur Rimbaud a fait lui-m. Download; Bibrec; Bibliographic Record. Author: Rimbaud, Arthur, 1854-1891: Commentator. Project Gutenberg offers 52,595 free ebooks to download. Bad Blood(Une Saison en Enfer: Mauvais Sang)I. I find my clothing as barbarous as theirs. Masters and workers: all peasants, ignoble. Anyway service goes too far. The honesty of beggary upsets me. Criminals disgust me like eunuchs: me, I! Who made my tongue so deceitful that it? Without even using my body to live, and idler than a toad, I. Not a family in Europe I don. My race never rose up except to pillage: like wolves round a beast they haven. Again: I dance the Sabbath in a red glade, with old women and children. I remember nothing more distant than this country and Christianity. But always alone: without a family: what language, even, did I speak? I never see myself in the counsels of Christ: nor in the councils of the Lords ? I only discover myself in the present day. No more vagabonds, no more vague wars. The inferior race has spread everywhere ! For the body and the soul . And the diversions of princes and the games they prohibited! Geography, cosmography, physics, chemistry! We advance towards the Spirit. I know, and unaware how to express myself without pagan words, I! The Spirit is near, why doesn? The Gospel has passed! The Gospel. I wait for God with greed. How the towns glow in the evening. Sea air will scorch my lungs: lost climates will tan me. To swim, trample the grass, hunt, above all smoke: drink hard liquors like boiling metals . Women care for those fierce invalids returning from hot countries. The best is a good drunken sleep on the beach. Not to carry my disgust and betrayals through the world. Let! Marching, burdens, deserts, boredom, anger. Whom shall I hire myself to? What beast must be adored? What saintly image attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lie must I uphold? So no old age, no dangers: to be terrified is un- French.! I am so forsaken I could offer any divine image no matter what my urges towards perfection. O my self- denial, O my marvellous pity! Even downhere! De profundis Domine, what a creature I am! He had more strength than a saint, more good sense than a traveller ! As witness to his glory and reason. On the roads, on winter nights, without shelter, without clothing, without bread, a voice would clutch my frozen heart: . I could see myself before an angry crowd, facing the firing- squad, weeping with a misery they couldn! You are really blacks, you maniacs; wild beasts, misers. Old folks and invalids are so respectable they ask to be boiled. I bury the dead in my gut. Shouts, drums, dance, dance, dance, dance! We have to submit to baptism, clothes, work. I. The days will pass easily for me, repentance will be spared me. The fate of a son of good family, an early coffin scattered with crystal tears. Doubtless, debauchery is foolish; vice is foolish, rottenness must be thrown out. But the clock has not yet taken to striking only hours of pure sadness! Shall I be carried off like a child to play in paradise forgetting all unhappiness? Quick! Are there other lives? Wealth has always been so public. Divine love alone offers the keys of knowledge. I see that nature is nothing but a show of kindness. Farewell chimeras, ideals, errors. The rational song of the Angels rises from the lifeboat: it is divine love. I can die of earthly love, or die of devotion. You have chosen me from the shipwrecked: those who are left aren. These are no longer childish promises. Nor the hope of escaping old age and death. God give me strength and I praise God. Rage, debaucheries, madness, all of whose joys and disasters I know . Let us appreciate without dizziness the extent of my innocence. I. Frivolous tastes have quit me. No need for self- sacrifice or divine love any more. Each has his reason, scorn, pity: I retain my place at the summit of this angelic ladder of good sense. As for established happiness: domestic or not.. I can. Life flowers through work, an old truth: me, my life is too insubstantial, it flies off and drifts around far above the action that focus dear to the world. What an old maid I! The anchorites, artists for whom there! My innocence should make me weep. Life is the farce all perform.! My lungs burn, my brow throbs! Night revolves in my eyes, in this sun! Heart.. limbs.. Where to? Equipment, arms.. See how the flames rise up! Let me describe the vision, the air of hell suffers no hymns! It was of millions of enchanting creatures, sweet spiritual harmony, strength and peace, noble ambitions, who knows what? Noble ambitions! There! A man who wants to mutilate himself is truly damned, is he not? I think myself in hell, therefore I am. Parents, you caused my wretchedness and your own. Later the delights of damnation will deepen. A crime, quick, let me fall into the void, in the name of human law. Quiet, quiet there! Of the errors whispered to me, magic, false perfumes, puerile music. I thirst, such thirst! Ah, childhood, grass, the rain, the lake over stones, the moonlight when the clock struck twelve! Besides, no one ever thinks of others. Let no one come near me. I smell of scorching, that. I am a thousand times richer, let! The clock of life has just stopped. I am no longer in the world . The lantern showed him to us standing, pale with brown tresses, on the flank of an emerald wave.. I shall unveil all the mysteries: mysteries religious or natural, death, birth, future, past, cosmogony, nothingness. I am a master of phantasmagoria. Listen! Shall I vanish, dive deep in search of the ring? I will make gold, cures. Have faith then in me, faith soothes, guides, heals. It makes me regret the world very little. I was lucky not to suffer more. My life was nothing but sweet follies, it! Let us make every possible grimace. Decidedly, we are beyond the world. My sense of touch: gone. Ah, my chateau, my Saxony, my rank of willows! Evenings, dawns, nights, days.. How weary I am! I ought to have a hell for my anger, a hell for my pride, . Satan, you trickster, you want to destroy me with your enchantments. I demand, I demand one prick of the fork, one drop of the fire! Ah, to rise again to life! To set eyes on our deformities. And that poison, that kiss a thousand times damned! My weakness, the world! My God, have pity, hide me, I can! What a life! Forgiveness, divine Lord, forgiveness! And what tears again, later, I hope! Later, I will know the divine Spouse! No, not my friends.. Never such ravings such torments.. It! And yet all is permitted me, weighed down with the contempt of the most contemptible hearts. Well then, let us confide this thing, though we repeat it twenty times more . But I who have lost my wisdom, who am damned and dead to the world ! I am in mourning, I weep, I fear. A little coolness, Lord, if you please, if you graciously please! I. I forgot all my human tasks to follow him. The true life is absent. We are not in this world. I go where he goes, I have to. Love must be re- invented, that. All they do is long for security. Once gained, heart and beauty are set aside: only cold disdain remains, the fodder of marriage, nowadays. Or else I see women, with the marks of happiness, whom I could have made into fine comrades, devoured from the start by brutes as sensitive as posts.. I want to be mad with rage. Never show me gems, I. In the hovels where we used to get drunk together, he would weep to see those around us, wretched cattle. He would help to their feet the drunks in dark alleys. I saw all that touched him, as he would have created it for himself. When he seemed listless, I followed him, myself, in strange and complex deeds, far out, for good or ill: I was certain of never entering his world. How many hours of vigil, beside his dear sleeping body, questioning why he wanted to evade reality so deeply! No man every wished for it so. No, he only seeks them, I. Then, his charity is bewitched, and I. No other soul would have had the strength ! Besides, I could never imagine him with some other soul: one sees one. In his soul it was as if I were in a palace, emptied so none as base as self can be seen: that. I depended on him deeply. But what did he want with my dull cowardly existence? He made me no better, even though he failed to kill me! Sadly distressed, I sometimes said to him: ! With his kisses and loving embraces, it was truly heaven, a sombre heaven, which I entered, and where I would gladly have been left, poor; deaf, dumb, blind. I was already used to it. I saw us as two good children, free to wander in the Paradise of sorrow. Deeply stirred, we toiled together. But, after a penetrating caress he would say: . When you no longer have my arms beneath your neck; nor my heart to rest on, nor this mouth on your eyes. Because I must go far away, one day. And then, I must help others: it. I made him promise never to leave me. He gave it twenty times, that lover. It was as frivolous as my telling him: ! He will never leave me, I think. He wants to live like a sleepwalker. Would his goodness and kindness alone grant him rights in the world of reality? At times, I forget the pitiful state into which I. Or I will wake, and laws and customs will have changed . Oh, will you grant me the life of adventures that exists in children? He told me he had regrets, hopes: they can. Perhaps I should address myself to God. I am in the deepest abyss, and no longer know how to pray. O'Sullivan (American, about 1.
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