a walk through texts

I went off, my fists in my torn pockets;
My coat too was becoming ideal;
I walked under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh! oh! what brilliant loves I dreamed of!

My only pair of trousers had a big hole.
Tom Thumb in a daze, I sowed rhymes
As I went along. My inn was at the Big Dipper.
- My stars in the sky made a soft rustling sound.

And I listened to them, seated on the side of the road,
In those good September evenings when I felt drops
Of dew on my brow, like a strong wine;

Where, rhyming in the midst of fantastic shadows,
Like lyres I plucked the elastics
Of my wounded shoes, one foot near my heart!

Rimbaud, "My Bohemian Life (Fantasy)," in Rimbaud: Complete Words, Selected Letters, Wallace Fowlie trans., Chicago: UCP, 1966, 63.