Poetry by Arthur Rimbaud

MAY BANNERS

In the bright lime-tree branches Dies a fainting mort. But lively song Flutters among the currant bushes. So that our bloods may laugh in our veins, See the vines tangling themselves.

The sky is as pretty as an angel, The azure and the wave commune. I go out. If a sunbeam wounds me I shall succumb on the moss. Being patient and being bored Are too simple. To the devil with my cares.

I want dramatic summer To bind me to its chariot of fortune. Let me most because of you, o Nature, - Ah ! less alone and less useless ! - die.

There where the Shepherds, it's strange, Die more or less because of the world. I am willing that the seasons should wear me out. To you, Nature, I surrender ; With my hunger and all my thirst.

And, if it please you, feed and water me. Nothing, nothing at all deceives me ; To laugh at the sun is to laugh at one's parents, But I do not wish to laugh at anything ; And may this misfortune go free. ~~