Arthur Rimbaud

(20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891 / Charleville, Ardennes)

Arthur Rimbaud Poems

1. Le Châtiment De Tartufe 4/3/2010
2. The Old Guard 4/3/2010
3. Squattings 4/3/2010
4. Stages (Scenes) 4/3/2010
5. Lips Shut. Seen In Rome 4/3/2010
6. The Famous Victory Of Saarbrucken 4/3/2010
7. The Accursed Cherub 4/3/2010
8. Les Effarés 4/3/2010
9. Stupra Ii 4/3/2010
10. May Banners 4/3/2010
11. Lilies 4/3/2010
12. State Of Siege 4/3/2010
13. The Customs Men 4/3/2010
14. Promontory 4/3/2010
15. Vigils 4/3/2010
16. The Cupboard 4/3/2010
17. The Sideboard 4/3/2010
18. What One Says To The Poet On The Subject Of Flowers 4/3/2010
19. Winter Festival 4/3/2010
20. The Sly One 4/3/2010
21. Morts De Quatre-Vingt-Douze (Dead Of '92) 4/3/2010
22. Young Greedyguts 4/3/2010
23. Genie 4/3/2010
24. First Communions 4/3/2010
25. Obscur Et Fronce 4/3/2010
26. Paroxysms Of Caesars (Rages De Césars) 4/3/2010
27. Tartufe's Punishment 4/3/2010
28. Paris 4/3/2010
29. O Seasons, O Chateaux 4/3/2010
30. People In Church 4/3/2010
31. The Orphans' New Year's Gift 4/3/2010
32. Metropolitan 4/3/2010
33. Vowels 4/3/2010
34. Clearance Sale 4/3/2010
35. Le Forgeron (The Blacksmith) 4/3/2010
36. My Little Lovelies 4/3/2010
37. To Music (À La Musique) 4/3/2010
38. L'Idole.. Sonnet Du Trou Du Cul 4/3/2010
39. Those Who Sit 4/3/2010
40. To The Poet On The Subject Of Flowers 4/3/2010

Comments about Arthur Rimbaud

  • Soran M. H Soran M. H (2/8/2020 5:40:00 AM)

    Rimbaud the rebel and creative poet for centuries...his soul shining in the sky among the bright stars... our favorite poet.....

    8 person liked.
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  • diknasorki (9/14/2019 1:51:00 PM)

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  • aurthar (12/23/2018 10:55:00 AM)

    Nathaniel. I can see what your saying... Paul`s remark is neat, on thursday I got a top of the range Nissan GT-R: after making $6612 this last four weeks and just a little over ten-k last munth. this is certainly the easiest work Ive had. I started this five months/ago and almost straight away began to make more than $71 per-hour. I work through this website, www.geosalary.com

    4 person liked.
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  • Nadeem Ishaque Nadeem Ishaque (11/3/2018 11:51:00 AM)

    Rimbaud can so easily vacillate between the lyric and the epic

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Frederick Kesner Frederick Kesner (3/8/2018 9:47:00 PM)

    An elusive character to the end. A major struggle in the study of Rimbaud would be his turning completely away from poetry in the last years of his life. It must have been a personal torment for poetry flows naturally from wells springing from within the poet.

    5 person liked.
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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (11/22/2015 4:47:00 PM)

    by Rimbaud, in Italian:

    La danza degli impiccati

    Alla nera forca, amabile moncone,
    danzano, danzano i paladini,
    i magri paladini del demonio,
    gli scheletri dei Saladini!
    Messer Belzebù tira per la cravatta
    i suoi piccoli neri fantocci che fan smorfie al cielo,
    e picchiandoli in fronte con la ciabatta
    li fa danzare sulle note d'un vecchio Natale!
    E i fantocci scioccati intrecciano i loro gracili braccini,
    come neri organi i petti squarciati
    che un tempo stringevano dolci donzelle
    cozzano a lungo in un amore immondo.
    Urrà per i gai danzatori che non hanno più pancia!
    Possono fare giravolte, perché il palco è così grande!
    Op! Che non si sappia se è danza o battaglia!
    Belzebù irato coi suoi violini raglia!
    O duri talloni, non usate mai sandali!
    Quasi tutti han tolto la camicia di pelle!
    Il resto non impaccia si guarda senza schifo.
    Sui crani la neve posa un candido cappello:
    la cornacchia è un pennacchio sulle incrinate teste,
    un brano di carne trema sul mento scarno:
    si direbbe vorticante nelle oscure resse
    di prodi, rigide armature di cartone.
    Urrà! La tramontana soffia al gran ballo degli scheletri!
    La forca nera mugola come un organo di ferro!
    E i lupi rispondono da foreste violette:
    all'orizzonte il cielo è d'un rosso inferno...
    Olà, scuotete quei funebri capitani
    che sgranano sornioni tra le dita spezzate
    un rosario d'amore sulle vertebre pallide:
    questo non è un monastero, o trapassati!
    Oh! Ecco, nel mezzo della danza macabra
    nel cielo rosso un folle scheletro avanza
    di slancio, e come un cavallo impenna:
    e, poiché al collo la corda è stretta,
    raggrinza le dita sul femore che scricchiola
    con grida simili a ghigni
    e come un acrobata che rientra nella sua baracca
    rimbalza nel ballo al canto delle ossa.
    Alla nera forca, amabile moncone,
    danzano, danzano i paladini,
    i magri paladini del demonio,
    gli scheletri dei Saladini!

    -Arthur Rimbaud

    166 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Grace Moneymaker (12/23/2014 2:40:00 PM)

    Good ol' Arthur Rimbaud. He inspires me to write poetry, even though I am a troubled poet like he was. One of the best.

    15 person liked.
    27 person did not like.
  • Jetty J Newnham Jetty J Newnham (11/19/2012 5:31:00 AM)

    If I hadn't read the beat poets I may never of heard Rimbaud, I thank them for that. Its also possible that if I had not read either I may not write my own.

    31 person liked.
    21 person did not like.
  • Shakti Shetty (7/22/2006 4:25:00 AM)

    If u r looking for a true rebel..a constant disclaimer of world orthodoxy then rimbaud is the closest you can get................ morever he was young, vibrant and too close to dream than reality.........unashamed of his thoughts, profane at times but nonetheless a genius who wrote with no qualm whatsoever!

    41 person liked.
    17 person did not like.
Best Poem of Arthur Rimbaud

Drunken Morning

Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good!
Hideous fanfare where yet I do not stumble!
Oh, rack of enchantments!
For the first time, hurrah for the unheard-of work,
For the marvelous body! For the first time!
It began with the laughter of children, and there it will end.
This poison will stay in our veins even when, as the fanfares depart,
We return to our former disharmony.
Oh, now, we who are so worthy of these tortures!
Let us re-create ourselves after that superhuman promise
Made to our souls and our bodies at their creation:
That promise, that madness! ...

Read the full of Drunken Morning

Drunken Morning

Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good!
Hideous fanfare where yet I do not stumble!
Oh, rack of enchantments!
For the first time, hurrah for the unheard-of work,
For the marvelous body! For the first time!
It began with the laughter of children, and there it will end.
This poison will stay in our veins even when, as the fanfares depart,
We return to our former disharmony.
Oh, now, we who are so worthy of these tortures!