Banners of May, Poem by Arthur Rimbaud

Poem by Arthur Rimbaud Collection Derniers versThemes Life, SeasonsPeriod 19th century

In the clear branches of the lindens
A sickly halloo dies away.
But spiritual songs
Flutter among the gooseberries.
Let our blood laugh in our veins,
Here come the vines interweaving.
The sky is pretty as an angel.
The azure and the wave commune.
I go out. If a ray wounds me
I shall succumb on the moss.

Let one be patient and be bored
That’s too simple. Fie on my sorrows.
I want the dramatic summer
To bind me to its chariot of fortunes
That through you, O Nature, greatly,
– Ah less alone and less worthless! – I may die.
Instead of the Shepherds, it’s funny,
Dying more or less throughout the world.

I am quite willing that the seasons wear me out.
To you, Nature, I surrender;
And my hunger and all my thirst.
And, if it please you, nourish, water.
Nothing at all deludes me;
It is laughing at parents, as at the sun,
But I do not want to laugh at anything;
And free be this misfortune.

Arthur Rimbaud

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

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