“Let cities light their lamps in the evening; my daytime is done. I am leaving Europe. The air of the sea will burn my lungs; lost climates will turn my skin to leather. To swim, to pulverize grass, to hunt, above all to smoke; to drink strong drinks, as strong as molten ore, as did those dear ancestors around their fires.
I will come back with limbs of iron, with dark skin and angry eyes: in this mask, they will think I belong to a strong race. I will have gold; I will be brutal and indolent. Women nurse these ferocious invalids come back from the tropics. I will become involved in politics. Saved.”
From:
A Season in Hell
Bad Blood (chapter II)
by Arthur Rimbaud
(as translated by Paul Schmidt)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
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