Comedy of Thrist: 4-5

4. The Poor Man Dreams

Perhaps an Evening awaits me
when I shall drink I peace in some old Town,
and die the happier: since I am patient!
If my pain submits, if I ever have any gold,
shall I choose the North or the Country of Vines? …
- Oh! It is shameful to dream - since it is pure loss!
And if I become once more the old traveler,
never can the green inn be open to me again.

5. Conclusion

The pigeons which flutter in the meadow,
the game which runs and sees in the dark,
the water animals, the animal enslaved,
the last butterflies!.. also are thirsty.
But to dissolve where that wandering cloud is dissolving -
Oh! Favoured by what is fresh!
To expire in those damp violets
whose awakening fills these woods?

Pleasant Thought for the Morning

At four o'clock on a summer morning,
The Sleep of love still lasts.
Under the spinneys the dawn disperses scents
Of the festive night.

But down there in the huge workshop
Near the Hesperidean sun,
The carpenters in their shirtsleeves
are already astir.

Peaceful in the midst of their wilderness of foam,
They are preparing the costly canopies
Where the riches of the city
Will smile beneath painted skies.

Ah ! for these charming labourer's sakes
Subjects of a king of Babylon,
Venus ! leave Lovers for a little while,
Whose souls are wearing crowns.

O Queen of the Sheperds!
Take strong liquor to the workers,
So that their strength may be calmed
Until the sea-bathe at noon.

May 1872
Arthur Rimbaud

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