Being Beauteous Poem by Arthur Rimbaud

Being Beauteous

Rating: 3.0

Against a fall of snow, a Being Beauiful, and very tall.
Whistlings of death and circles of faint music
Make this adored body, swelling and trembling
Like a specter, rise...
Black and scarlet gashes burst in the gleaming flesh.
The true colors of life grow dark,
Shimmering and sperate
In the scaffolding, around the Vision.

Shiverings mutter and rise,
And the furious taste of these effects is charged
With deadly whistlings and the raucous music
That the world, far behind us, hurls at our mother of beauty...
She retreats, she rises up...
Oh! Our bones have put on new flesh, for love.

Oh ash-white face

Oh tousled hair

O crystal arms!

On this cannot I mean to destroy myself
In a swirling of trees and soft air!

Jeannot le Petit 15 August 2020

What a dreadful translation, aside from the typos and spelling errors!

1 0 Reply
Frederick Kesner 05 March 2018

Rouses intense and distinct emotions as well as images. Has the feel of the impressionist meeting the surrealist in a straightforward discussion.

0 0 Reply
Barry Farber 20 October 2017

this seems to me a description of the beatification, transubstantiation, and ascension of the virgin mary in a crepuscular winter barry farber

2 1 Reply
Solomon Brook 30 January 2006

It appears as experiemental form and flow. And it reads well to me, I like it. Keep on pressing in this direction. I believe experiemental form is healthy, since obvious the 'old-school' is fading in popularity it would seem. We'll see though. Nice work.

5 6 Reply
Arthur Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud

Charleville, Ardennes
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