Arthur Rimbaud

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

The Song Of The Highest Tower - Poem by Arthur Rimbaud

1. (From: Fetes de la Patience)


Idle Youth
By all things enslaved
Through sensitivity
I’ve wasted my days.
Ah! Let the moment come
When hearts love as one.

I told myself: wait
And let no one see:
And without the promise
Of true ecstasy.
Let nothing delay
This hiding away.

I’ve been patient so long
I’ve forgotten even
The terror and suffering
Flown up to heaven,
A sick thirst again
Darkens my veins.

So the meadow
Freed by neglect,
Flowered, overgrown
With weeds and incense,
To the buzzing nearby
Of a hundred foul flies.

Ah! Thousand widowhoods
Of a soul so poor
It bears only the image
Of our Lady before!
Does one then pray
To the Virgin today?

Idle Youth
By all things enslaved
Through sensitivity
I’ve wasted my days.
Ah! Let the moment come
When hearts love as one.



2. (From: Une Saison en Enfer)


Let it come, let it come
The day when hearts love as one.

I’ve been patient so long
I’ve forgotten even
The terror and suffering
Flown up to heaven,
A sick thirst again
Darkens my veins.

Let it come, let it come
The day when hearts love as one.

So the meadow
Freed by neglect,
Flowered, overgrown
With weeds and incense,
To the buzz nearby
Of foul flies.

Let it come, let it come
The day when hearts love as one.


Comments about The Song Of The Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 3, 2010



[Report Error]