A Winter Dream

by Arthur Rimbaud

A Winter Dream 

In winter we’ll travel in a little pink carriage

With cushions of blue.

We’ll be fine. A nest of mad kisses waits

In each corner too.

You’ll shut your eyes, not to see, through the glass,

Grimacing shadows of evening,

Those snarling monsters, a crowd going past

Of black wolves and black demons.

Then you’ll feel your cheek tickled quite hard…

A little kiss, like a maddened spider,

Will run over your neck…

And you’ll say: “Catch it!” bowing your head,

– And we’ll take our time finding that creature

– Who travels so far… 

Sensation 

In the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, 

And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: 

Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet.

I will let the wind bathe my bare head.

I will not speak, I will have no thoughts: 

But infinite love will mount in my soul; 

And I will go far, far off, like a gypsy, 

Through the country side-joyous as if I were with a woman. 

The Stolen Heart 

My sad heart leaks at the poop,

My heart covered in filthy shag:

They squirt it with jets of soup,

My sad heart leaks at the poop:

Under the jibes of that rough troop

Drowned in laughter, see them rag,

My sad heart leaks at the poop,

My heart covered in filthy shag!

Ithyphallic and coarse, their jests

They’ve corrupted it every way!

On the wheelhouse their grotesques,

Ithyphallic and coarse their jests.

O waves, abracadabrantesque,

Take my heart, wash all away!

Ithyphallic and coarse their jests,

They’ve corrupted it every way!

When they’ve finished chewing their plugs,

What shall we do O stolen heart?

Then Bacchic hiccups from ugly mugs:

When they’ve finished chewing their plugs:

My guts will heave, the filthy lugs,

If it’s swallowed outright, my heart:

When they’ve finished chewing their plugs

What shall we do O stolen heart?