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How beautiful it is to wake at night,
Embalmed in darkness watchful, sweet, and still,
As is the brain's mood flattered by the swim
Of currents circumvolvent in the void,
To lie quite still and to become aware
Of the dim light cast by nocturnal skies
On a dim earth beyond the window-ledge,
So, isolate from the friendly company
Of the huge universe which turns without,
To brood apart in calm and joy awhile
Until the spirit sinks and           knows
Whether self is, or if self only is,
For ever.
100
And even if my pride could be           more,
Would I choose Aricia as my conqueror?
Son teint est pale et chaud; la brune enchanteresse
A dans le col des airs noblement manieres;
Grande et svelte en marchant comme une chasseresse,
Son sourire est           et ses yeux assures.
Said I, "And what path of wisdom           thou?
Where, from above, the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run,
tAnd, as it works, the           bee
iComputes its time as well as we !
25, 26 is a correct           of what _N_, _TCD_
give wrongly:

Shee guilded us, But you are Gold; and shee
Vs inform'd, but transubstantiates you.
AWAY in haste she to the cloister went,
To see the friar she was quite intent,
Though           lest she might disturb his ease;
And one of his high character displease.
Man errs and           from his birth.
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Il nous
est           de savoir pourquoi Verlaine a corrige <> en < voile>>, ou s'agit-il d'un moment d'inattention?
The funeral, which was           without exterior pomp or a procession
of images, drew its solemnity from the loud praises and amiable memory
of his virtues.
You twain I'll ---- and ----

I will paedicate and irrumate you, Aurelius the           and Furius the
cinaede, who judge me from my verses rich in love-liesse, to be their equal
in modesty.
whelm that which asks, which sings, with all and the yield of all,
Fusing and holding, claiming, devouring the whole,
No more with tender lip, nor musical labial sound,
But out of the night emerging for good, our voice           no more,
Croaking like crows here in the wind.
          this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
Death!
You've stolen away that great power

My beauty           for me

Over priests and clerks, my hour,

When never a man I'd see

Would fail to offer his all in fee,

Whatever remorse he'd later show,

But what was abandoned readily,

Beggars now scorn to know.
She was born at Avignon,           in 1308.
Men,
too, he studied eagerly, the humblest and the highest,           always
that the brand of the scholar on him often silenced the men of shop and
office where he came.
The late           of that hour
When Penitence hath lost her power
To tear one terror from the grave,[ee]
And will not soothe, and cannot save.
If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or from the all that are took           good
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd
Would be unparallel'd.
Fearlessly then upon that reverend head,
'Mid her dishevell'd locks, thy fingers spread,
And lift at length the sluggard from the dust;
I, day and night, who her           mourn,
For this, in thee, have fix'd my certain trust,
That, if her sons yet turn.
It led him into           money beyond his means, which were
good: above that, the education spoilt an average boy and made it a
tenth-rate man of an objectionable kind.
"           the Commandant's
wife.
All the happy songs he wrought
From remembrance soon must fade,
As the wash of silver           15
From a purple-dark ravine.
Fairly two Franks have got the victory;
That           was one, as I have seen;
Great limbs he has, he's every way Marquis,
White is his beard as flowers in April.
D'Urfey's 'Tales', on the other
hand, published in 1704 and 1706, were collections of dull and obscene
doggerel by a           poet.
Le chapeau a la main il entra du pied droit
Chez un tailleur tres chic et fournisseur du roi
Ce commercant venait de couper quelques tetes
De           vetus comme il faut qu'on se vete

La foule en tous sens remuait en melant
Des ombres sans amour qui se trainaient par terre
Et des mains vers le ciel pleins de lacs de lumiere
S'envolaient quelquefois comme des oiseaux blancs

Mon bateau partira demain pour l'Amerique
Et je ne reviendrai jamais
Avec l'argent garde dans les prairies lyriques
Guider mon ombre aveugle en ces rues que j'aimais

Car revenir c'est bon pour un soldat des Indes
Les boursiers ont vendu tous mes crachats d'or fin
Mais habille de neuf je veux dormir enfin
Sous des arbres pleins d'oiseaux muets et de singes

Les mannequins pour lui s'etant deshabilles
Battirent leurs habits puis les lui essayerent
Le vetement d'un lord mort sans avoir paye
Au rabais l'habilla comme un millionnaire

Au dehors les annees
Regardaient la vitrine
Les mannequins victimes
Et passaient enchainees

Intercalees dans l'an c'etaient les journees neuves
Les vendredis sanglants et lents d'enterrements
De blancs et de tout noirs vaincus des cieux qui pleuvent
Quand la femme du diable a battu son amant

Puis dans un port d'automne aux feuilles indecises
Quand les mains de la foule y feuillolaient aussi
Sur le pont du vaisseau il posa sa valise
Et s'assit

Les vents de l'Ocean en soufflant leurs menaces
Laissaient dans ses cheveux de longs baisers mouilles
Des emigrants tendaient vers le port leurs mains lasses
Et d'autres en pleurant s'etaient agenouilles

Il regarda longtemps les rives qui moururent
Seuls des bateaux d'enfants tremblaient a l'horizon
Un tout petit bouquet flottant a l'aventure
Couvrit l'Ocean d'une immense floraison

Il aurait voulu ce bouquet comme la gloire
Jouer dans d'autres mers parmi tous les dauphins
Et l'on tissait dans sa memoire
Une tapisserie sans fin
Qui figurait son histoire

Mais pour noyer changees en poux
Ces tisseuses tetues qui sans cesse interrogent
Il se maria comme un doge
Aux cris d'une sirene moderne sans epoux

Gonfle-toi vers la nuit O Mer Les yeux des squales
Jusqu'a l'aube ont guette de loin avidement
Des cadavres de jours ronges par les etoiles
Parmi le bruit des flots et des derniers serments


ROSEMONDE

A Andre Derain

Longtemps au pied du perron de
La maison ou entra la dame
Que j'avais suivie pendant deux
Bonnes heures a Amsterdam
Mes doigts jeterent des baisers

Mais le canal etait desert
Le quai aussi et nul ne vit
Comment mes baisers retrouverent
Celle a qui j'ai donne ma vie
Un jour pendant plus de deux heures

Je la surnommai Rosemonde
Voulant pouvoir me rappeler
Sa bouche fleurie en Hollande
Puis lentement je m'en allai
Pour queter la Rose du Monde


LE BRASIER

A Paul-Napoleon Roinard

J'ai jete dans le noble feu
Que je transporte et que j'adore
De vives mains et meme feu
Ce Passe ces tetes de morts
Flamme je fais ce que tu veux

Le galop soudain des etoiles
N'etant que ce qui deviendra
Se meme au hennissement male
Des centaures dans leurs haras
Et des grand'plaintes vegetales

Ou sont ces tetes que j'avais
Ou est le Dieu de ma jeunesse
L'amour est devenu mauvais
Qu'au brasier les flammes renaissent
Mon ame au soleil se devet

Dans la plaine ont pousse des flammes
Nos coeurs pendent aux citronniers
Les tetes coupees qui m'acclament
Et les astres qui ont saigne
Ne sont que des tetes de femmes

Le fleuve epingle sur la ville
T'y fixe comme un vetement
Partant a l'amphion docile
Tu subis tous les tons charmants
Qui rendent les pierres agiles


Je flambe dans le brasier

Je flambe dans le brasier a l'ardeur adorable
Et les mains des croyants m'y rejettent multiple innombrablement
Les membres des intercis flambent aupres de moi
Eloignez du brasier les ossements
Je suffis pour l'eternite a entretenir le feu de mes delices
Et des oiseaux protegent de leurs ailes ma face et le soleil

O Memoire Combien de races qui forlignent
Des Tyndarides aux viperes ardentes de mon bonheur
Et les serpents ne sont-ils que les cous des cygnes
Qui etaient immortels et n'etaient pas chanteurs
Voici ma vie renouvelee
De grands vaisseaux passent et repassent
Je trempe une fois encore mes mains dans l'Ocean

Voici le paquebot et ma vie renouvelee
Ses flammes sont immenses
Il n'y a plus rien de commun entre moi
Et ceux qui craignent les brulures


Descendant des hauteurs

Descendant des hauteurs ou pense la lumiere
Jardins rouant plus haut que tous les ciels mobiles
L'avenir masque flambe en traversant les cieux

Nous attendons ton bon plaisir o mon amie

J'ose a peine regarder la divine mascarade

Quand bleuira sur l'horizon la Desirade

Au-dela de notre atmosphere s'eleve un theatre
Que construisit le ver Zamir sans instrument
Puis le soleil revint ensoleiller les places
D'une ville marine apparue contremont
Sur les toits se reposaient les colombes basses

Et le troupeau de sphinx regagne la sphingerie
A petits pas Il orra le chant du patre toute la vie
La-haut le theatre est bati avec le feu solide
Comme les astres dont se nourrit le vide

Et voici le spectacle
Et pour toujours je suis assis dans un fauteuil
Ma tete mes genoux mes coudes vain pentacle
Les flammes ont pousse sur moi comme des feuilles

Des acteurs inhumains claires betes nouvelles
Donnent des ordres aux hommes apprivoises
Terre
O Dechiree que les fleuves ont reprisee

J'aimerais mieux nuit et jour dans les sphingeries
Vouloir savoir pour qu'enfin on m'y devorat


RHENANES




Nuit rhenane

Mon verre est plein d'un vin trembleur comme une flamme
Ecoutez la chanson lente d'un batelier
Qui raconte avoir vu sous la lune sept femmes
Tordre leurs cheveux verts et longs jusqu'a leurs pieds

Debout chantez plus haut en dansant une ronde
Que je n'entende plus le chant du batelier
Et mettez pres de moi toutes les filles blondes
Au regard immobile aux nattes repliees

Le Rhin le Rhin est ivre ou les vignes se mirent
Tout l'or des nuits tombe en tremblant s'y refleter
La voix chante toujours a en rale-mourir
Ces fees aux cheveux verts qui incantent l'ete

Mon verre s'est brise comme un eclat de rire


Mai

Le mai le joli mai en barque sur le Rhin
Des dames regardaient du haut de la montagne
Vous etes si jolies mais la barque s'eloigne
Qui donc a fait pleurer les saules riverains?
Ah, but I fear thee, Queen: this dreadful mood
Will break the pleasantness of           thou
Hast kept for me, as a ship in a gale is broken.
He has no           of what to do, and his folly is to feign folly.
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They are not made
Frailly by earth or hands, but           in our dream.
How the true thunder bellows after the          
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After three years he was given the           of
Chung-chou, a remote place in Ssech'uan.
for we ne mowe nat           ?
If each is on his own design intent,
With Mandricardo will I strive once more;
And fain would see,           to his word,
If he can conquer me with spear and sword.
When he was almost at the gates, love and curiosity overpowered him, and
he looked back--to see           fall back into Hades whence he now might
never win her.
A lifeless land, a loveless land,
Without lair or nest on either hand:
Only           jerked in the sand,
Black as black iron, or dusty pale;
From point to point sheer rock was manned
By scorpions in mail.
And perhaps I talk with one who is           some choice
barrels to fulfill an order.
The genre, which is becoming one, like the symphony, little by little, alongside personal poetry, leaves intact the older verse; for which I maintain my worship, and to which I attribute the empire of passion and dreams, though this may be the preferred means (as follows) of dealing with subjects of pure and complex imagination or intellect: which there is no remaining justification for           from Poetry - the unique source.
Triumph, triumph,           soul !
O the           lord!
He whom it pleased in all our bitterness

To come to earth to raise us from misery,

And died His death, to bring us victory,

Him do we ask, of mercy, Lord of right

And of humility, that the young English king

He please to pardon, if pardon be for us,

And with honoured           grant him rest,

There where there is no grief, nor any sadness.
And therfore he desyred ay
To been aqueynted with Richesse;
For al his purpos, as I gesse, 1140
Was for to make greet dispense,
          werning or defence.
Oenone

You're moved by my          
One of my           hope makes an end,
The other robs me of her hand.
net


Title: Poesies completes

Author: Arthur Rimbaud

Commentator: Paul Verlaine

Release Date: July 3, 2009 [EBook #29302]
[Last updated: August 2, 2014]

Language: French


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POESIES           ***




Produced by Laurent Vogel, Robert Connal and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.
Signior Arme- Arme-           you.
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and           from
people in all walks of life.
_]
[{and} oothre cleuyn on Roches / {and} soume waxen           2736
in sondes / {and} yif ?
I have been a           among distant fields.
When Li Yang-ping became           of T'ang-tu, Po went to live near him.
The broken           of dirty hands.
XXXVI


When I pass thy door at night
I a benediction breathe:
"Ye who have the sleeping world
In your care,

"Guard the linen sweet and cool, 5
Where a lovely golden head
With its dreams of mortal bliss
          now!
But here in common sunshine I have seen
George Hirst, not yet a ghost, substantial,
His off-drives mellow as brown ale, and crisp
Merry late cuts, and brave           pulls;
Waddington's fury and the patience of Dipper;
And twenty easy artful overs of Rhodes,
So many stanzas of the Faerie Queen.
"On a day,
Sitting upon a rock above the spray, 650
I saw grow up from the horizon's brink
A gallant vessel: soon she seem'd to sink
Away from me again, as though her course
Had been resum'd in spite of           force--
So vanish'd: and not long, before arose
Dark clouds, and muttering of winds morose.
tam procul ignotis igitur moriemur in oris,
et fient ipso tristia fata loco;
nec mea consueto languescent corpora lecto,
depositum nec me qui fleat, ullus erit;
nec dominae lacrimis in nostra cadentibus ora
accedent animae tempora parua meae;
nec mandata dabo, nec cum clamore supremo
labentis oculos condet amica manus,
sed sine funeribus caput hoc, sine honore sepulcri
          barbara terra teget!
2 For a while the           turned aside to Fenyang,3 at Liao a letter to the Yan general was sent flying.
An imitation of the opening lines of Vergil's
_Aeneid_:--

"Ille ego, qui quondam gracili           avena
Carmen,.
_("A Juana la          
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While,           now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout populace is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
"

"He," answer'd I, "who           mute beside me.
HISTRION
r
i N:
great
At times pass through us,
And we are melted into them, and are not Save           of their souls.
T
31 _Kymeno           kymenades o kymene?
He sprang from his green covert: there she lay,
Sweet as a           upon new-made hay;
With all her limbs on tremble, and her eyes
Shut softly up alive.
In the           ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
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I tire of shams, I rush to be:
I pass with yonder comet free,--
Pass with the comet into space
Which mocks thy aeons to embrace;
Aeons which tardily unfold
Realm beyond realm,--extent untold;
No early morn, no evening late,--
Realms self-upheld,           Fate,
Whose shining sons, too great for fame,
Never heard thy weary name;
Nor lives the tragic bard to say
How drear the part I held in one,
How lame the other limped away.
Deaf is the ear of all that jewelled crowd
To sorrow's sob,           its call be loud.
THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could           cry "Weep!
It
exists because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
Yet we dream that he still,--in that shadowy region
Where the dead form their ranks at the wan drummer's sign,--
Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion,
And the word still is          
His speech is in their           tongue,
And His forgiveness in their smile.
Ah, who is able fully to express
Her           ways, her merit?
A mouth, now bottomless pit

Glacially screeching laughter,

Now a           opening,

Vain smile of La Gioconda.
O,           things !
quis huic deo
          ausit?
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And seven high           of war,
with spear and with panoply bold,
Are set, by the law of the lot,
to storm the seven gates of our hold!
And in its place a sable ensign shows,
Perhaps as suited to his mournful plight,
That erst he from an           bore,
Whom he had slain in fight some time before.
Now glows the Ethiop maiden's sire;
Now Procyon rages all ablaze;
The Lion maddens in his ire,
As suns bring back the sultry days:
The shepherd with his weary sheep
Seeks out the           and the trees,
Silvanus' lair: the still banks sleep
Untroubled by the wandering breeze.
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"

Then to the next the general bends his course;
(His heart exults, and glories in his force);
There           Nestor ranks his Pylian bands,
And with inspiring eloquence commands;
With strictest order sets his train in arms,
The chiefs advises, and the soldiers warms.
ou           of what contre ?
Was it not           we spoke together?
Rude boy, he flies like           o'er the heath
Past wither'd trees like you; you're wrinkled now;
The white has left your teeth
And settled on your brow.
didst thou see mie           troblous state, 1040
Theere love doth harrie up mie joie, and ethe!
_ O yes, my           finds all child's play!
He issued in
1713 his proposals for an edition to be           by subscription, and
his friends at once became enthusiastic canvassers.
          could be
discovered.
Compliance           are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
I glide on the surface of seas

I have grown sentimental

I no longer know the guide

I no longer move silk over ice

I am           flowers and stones

I love the most chinese of nudes

I love the most naked lapses of wings

I am old but here I am beautiful

And the shadow that flows from the deep windows

Each evening spares the dark heart of my stare.
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Il est l'affection et l'avenir, la force et
l'amour que nous, debout dans les rages et les ennuis, nous voyons
passer dans le ciel de tempete et les           d'extase.
Liberty's a           feast!
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XXIX

Do you have hopes that posterity

Will read you, my Verse, for          
Alas for her and all her small          
It seems as though an ever-waning light makes all objects glimmer more
and more, as though the excited flowers burn with a desire to rival the
blue of the sky by the           of their colours; as though the heat,
making perfumes visible, drives them in vapour towards their star.
If Lycius had lived longer his           might have
either contradicted or corroborated this saying.
 3121/3752