Arthur Rimbaud
Arthur Rimbaud
Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud; 20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891) was a French poet who is known for his influence on modern literature and arts, which prefigured surrealism. Born in Charleville-Mézières, he started writing at a very young age and was a prodigious student, but abandoned his formal education in his teenage years to run away from home amidst the Franco-Prussian War. After running away, during his late adolescence and early adulthood, he began the bulk of his literary...
NationalityFrench
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth20 October 1854
CountryFrance
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
Unhappiness was my god.
No one's serious at seventeen.
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?
What an old maid I'm getting to be. lacking the courage to be in love with death!
Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
Love...no such thing. Whatever it is that binds families and married couples together, that's not love. That's stupidity or selfishness or fear. Love doesn't exist. Self interest exists, attachment based on personal gain exists, complacency exists. But not love. Love has to be reinvented, that’s certain.
. . . be absolute moderne.
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.
My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?