Song of the Highest Tower, Poem by Arthur Rimbaud

Poem by Arthur Rimbaud Collection Derniers versThemes LovePeriod 19th century

Idle youth
Enslaved to everything,
Through delicacy
I have lost my life.
Ah! Let the time come
When hearts fall in love.

I said to myself: let it be,
And let no one see you:
And without the promise
Of higher joys.
Let nothing stop you,
August retreat.

I have been so patient
That I forever forget;
Fears and sufferings
Have departed to the skies.
And an unhealthy thirst
Darkens my veins.
Thus the meadow
Given over to oblivion,
Grown, and flowered
With incense and darnel
By the fierce bumblebee
Of a hundred filthy flies.

Ah! A thousand widowhoods
Of the so poor soul
That has only the image
Of Our Lady!
Do people pray
To the Virgin Mary?

Idle youth
Enslaved to everything,
Through delicacy
I have lost my life.
Ah! Let the time come
When hearts fall in love!

Arthur Rimbaud

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-song-of-the-highest-tower-arthur-rimbaud/