Garlands | Excerpts from Illuminations / Arthur Rimbaud, 1886

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“An overcast morning in July. A taste of ashes flies through the
air; – an odor of sweating wood on the hearth, – dew-ret flowers, –
devastation along the promenades, – the mist of the canals over
the fields – why not incense and toys already?”

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“I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from
window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.”

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“Reviving a pleasant taste of India ink, a black powder rains on
my vigil. I lower the jets of the chandelier, I throw myself on my
bed, and turning my face towards the darkness, I see you, my
daughters! my queens!”

Arthur Rimbaud, Illuminations, 1886

Also:

Evening prayer | A poem by Arthur Rimbaud, 1870s
My Bohemian Life (Fantasy) | Arthur Rimbaud, 1870
Sensation | Arthur Rimbaud, 1870