FAREWELL
Fall already!
But why regret an eternal sun, if we committed to discovering the divine light, away from people who die with the seasons.
fall. Our boat high in the fog, turns to the port of poverty, enormous city sky stained with fire and mud. Ah! the rotten rags, soaked bread of rain, the drunkenness, the thousand loves that have crucified me! So it will end this point ghoul queen of millions of souls and dead bodies and will judged! I remember the skin eaten by mud and plague, worms full hair and armpits and still biggest worms in the heart, lying among strangers without age, without feeling ... I could have died there ... The horrible memory! I hate poverty.
And I dread the winter because it's the season of comfort!
- Sometimes the sky I see the endless beaches covered with white nations joy. A great golden ship, above me, waves his colored pennants in the breeze
am. I created all the holidays, every triumph, every drama. I tried to invent new flowers, new stars, new flesh, new languages . I thought to acquire supernatural powers. Well! I must bury my imagination and my memories! A fine career as an artist and storyteller!
Me! I who called myself magus or angel, exempt from all morality, I went to ground, with a duty to try and rough reality to embrace! Peasant!
Am I wrong? charity if it sister of death for me? Finally, I ask forgiveness for having fed on lies. And going. But not a friendly hand! and where look for help?
Yes, the new era is less severe.
For I can say that victory is mine: the gnashing of teeth, the hissing of fire, stinking sighs subside. All the memories fade unclean. My last longings, - envy beggars, robbers, friends of the dead, arrears of all kinds. - Damned if I took my revenge!
must be absolutely modern.
No hymns: hold not win. Tough night! The dried blood smokes on my face, and I have nothing behind me but that repulsive little tree! ... Spiritual combat is as brutal the battle of men, but the vision of justice is the pleasure of God alone.
However it yesterday. All receive new strength and real tenderness.
And at dawn, armed with a burning patience, we shall enter the splendid cities. What I was talking about a friendly hand! A great advantage is that I can laugh at old false loves, and put to shame those lying couples
-I saw the hell of women there;
- and I will be free to
possess the truth in a soul and a body .
April to August 1873 in April 1873.
Again and again: Arthur Raimbaud!
0 comments:
Post a Comment