The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses - Arthur Rimbaud quotes

The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses

Author: Arthur Rimbaud

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The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.

I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.

I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.

I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.

I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.

I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.

The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.

The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.

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