Eternity

In moments of quiet contemplation, I remember verses of another life. The very ones that awakened not just my senses, but thoughts from deep within, and emotions - raw and untamed, intense. A teacher of mine once said to me that reading Rimbaud could have that effect. He broke all the rules and made the Word his own. To me, he remains forever l'enfant terrible of French poetry in his search for sublimity through words and pure beauty.

"Elle est retrouvée.
Quoi ? - L'Éternité.
C'est la mer mêlée
Au soleil.

Mon âme éternelle,
Observe ton voeu
Malgré la nuit seule
Et le jour en feu.

Donc tu te dégages
Des humains suffrages
Des communs élans
Et voles selon...

- Jamais d'espérance
Pas d'orietur.
Science et patience,
Le supplice est sûr.

Plus de lendemain,
Braises de satin,
Votre ardeur
Est le devoir.

Elle est retrouvée !
- Quoi ? - L'Éternité.
C'est la mer mêlée
Au soleil."

By Arthur Rimbaud, Une Saison en Enfer (Alchemy of the Word)

It is recovered.
What? - Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.

O my eternal soul,
Hold fast to desire
In spite of the night
And the day on fire.

You must set yourself free
From the striving of Man
And the applause of the World
You must fly as you can...

- No hope forever
No orietur.
Science and patience,
The torment is sure.

The fire within you,
Soft silken embers,
Is our whole duty
But no one remembers.

It is recovered.
What? Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.

Translation, poem by Arthur Rimbaud, Une Saison en Enfer (Alchemy of the Word)