Arthur Rimbaud

(20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891 / Charleville, Ardennes)

Arthur Rimbaud Quotes

  • ''The poet makes himself a seer by a long, prodigious, and rational disordering of all the senses. Every form of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he consumes all the poisons in him, and keeps only their quintessences.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. Letter, May 15, 1871. Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962).
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  • ''I is another.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. Letter, May 13, 1871. Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962).
  • ''I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an ennervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. repr. In Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962). "Délires II: Alchimie du Verbe," Une Saison en Enfer (1874).
  • ''But, truly, I have wept too much! The dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. repr. In Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962). Le Bateau Ivre (written 1871).
  • ''Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. "Mauvais Sang," Une Saison en Enfer (1874).
  • ''Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. "Mauvais Sang," Une Saison en Enfer (1874).
  • ''I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. repr. In Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962). "Nuit de l'Enfer," Une Saison en Enfer (1874).
  • ''When you are seventeen you aren't really serious.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. repr. In Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962). Roman, sect. 1.
  • ''The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. "Soleil et Chair," sct. 1, Collected Poems, ed. Oliver Bernard (1962).
  • ''Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.''
    Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), French poet. Song of the Highest Tower, Collected Poems (written 1872), ed. Oliver Bernard (1962).

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Best Poem of Arthur Rimbaud

Novel

I.

No one's serious at seventeen.
--On beautiful nights when beer and lemonade
And loud, blinding cafés are the last thing you need
--You stroll beneath green lindens on the promenade.

Lindens smell fine on fine June nights!
Sometimes the air is so sweet that you close your eyes;
The wind brings sounds--the town is near--
And carries scents of vineyards and beer. . .

II.

--Over there, framed by a branch
You can see a little patch of dark blue
Stung by a sinister star that fades
With faint quiverings, so small and white. . ...

Read the full of Novel

Royalty

On a brilliant morning, in a city of lovely people,
A wonderful man and a wonderful woman
Were shouting out loud, in the middle of town:
'Oh, my friends... I wanter her to be queen! '
'I want to be a queen! '
She kept on laughing and trembling,
While he talked to his friends about revelations,
And tribulations at an end.
They laughed and they leaned close to one another.

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