Album Called 'Zutique'

Drunken Coachman
Unwashed
drinks: mother-of-pearls
sees: bitter law (of gravity?),
carriage falls!
Woman tumbles,
loin bleeds:
whimpers. Outcry!
*A.R.

Young Greedyguts
Cap of silk moiré, little wand of ivory,
Clothes very dark.
Paul watches the cupboard,
sticks out little tongue at pear,
Prepares, gives a poke, and squitters.
* A.R.

Paris
Al Godillot, Gambier, Galopeau,
Wolf-Pleyel - O Robinets! -
Menier, - O Chirsts! - Leperdriel!
Kinck, Jacob, Bonbonnel!
Veuillot, Tropmann, Augier!
Gill, Mendes, Manuel, Guido Gonin! -
Basket of the Graces! L'Herisse!
Unctuous waxes!
Old loaves, spirits!
Blind men! -
but then who knows? -
Beadles, Enghien. -
In one's own home!
Let's be Christian!
* A.R.

The Old Guard
To the emperor's peasants!
To the peasants' emperor!
To the sons of mars,
to the glorious 18 March!
When heaven blessed
the guts of Eugene!
* A.R.

Lips Sealed
(Seen in Rome)
There is in Rome at the Sistine,
covered with Christian emblems,
a little scarlet skullcap in which
ancient noses lie drying:
noses of Thebaid ascetics,
noses of canons of the Holy Grail,
in which leaded-hued night coagulated,
and the old sepulchral plainchant.
In their mystic desiccation every morning
there is poured schimatic filth
reduced to a fine powder.
*Leon Dierx

Love-Feast
Dreamy,
Scapin tickles a rabbit under his coat.
Columbine -
who got fucked -
Do, mi - strums
On the rabbit's eye which soon,
losing control, gets tipsy.
Paul Verlaine
*A.R.

The Accursed Cherub
Bluish roofs and white doors
As on nocturnal Sundays,
At the town's end,
the road without Sound is white,
and it is night.

The street has strange houses
With shutters of angels.
But look how he runs towards a Boundary-stone,
evil and shivering, A dark cherub who staggers,
Having eaten too many jububes.
He does a cack : then disappears :
But his cursed cack appears,
Under the holy empty moon,
A slight cesspool of dirty blood !
Louis Ratisbonne.
*A.Rimbaud.

Lilies
O see-saws! O Lilies!
Enemas of silver!
Disdainful of labours,
disdainful of famines!

Dawn fills you with
a [wound-searching,] cleansing love!
A heavenly sweetness
butters your stamens!
Armand Silvestre
*A.R.

State of Siege
The poor omnibus driver under the tin canopy,
warming a huge chilblain inside his glove,
follows his heavy omnibus along the left bank,
and from his inflated groin thrusts away the moneybag.

And while [in the] soft shadow
where there are policemen,
the respectable interior of the bus looks at the moon
in the deep sky rocking
among its green cotton wool,
in spite of the Edict
and the still delicate hour,
and the fact that the bus is
returning to the Odeon,
the lewd wanton utters piercing cries
at the darkened square!
Francois Coppee
*A.R.

Arthur Rimbaud

Related Posts by Categories

Widget by Simran