The Stunned Ones, Poem by Arthur Rimbaud

Poem by Arthur Rimbaud Collection PoetryThemes FoodPeriod 19th century

Black in the snow and in the mist,
At the big air-hole that lights up,
Their rumps in a round,

On their knees, five little ones – misery! –
Watch the Baker making
The heavy blond bread.

They see the strong white arm that turns
The gray dough and puts it in the oven
In a clear hole.

They listen to the good bread baking.
The Baker with the fat smile
Hums an old tune.

They are huddled, not one moves,
In the breath of the red air-hole
Warm like a breast.

When for some midnight snack,
Shaped like a brioche
The bread is brought out,

When, under the smoke-blackened beams,
The fragrant crusts sing
And the crickets,

When that warm hole breathes life,
Their souls are so delighted
Under their rags,
They feel so alive,
The poor frost-covered Jesuses,
That they are all there,

Sticking their little pink snouts
To the trellis, grumbling things
Between the holes,

Quite simple, saying their prayers
And huddled toward those lights
Of the reopened sky,

So hard that they split their breeches
And their shirt flutters
In the winter wind.

Arthur Rimbaud

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