I Promise to Be Good The Letters of Arthur Rimbaud

Chapter 1 NOTE LEFT IN THE MAILBOX OF GEORGES IZAMBARD [Charleville; undated, most likely late winter 1870] If you have, and if you can lend me: (above all)1: Historical Curiosities, volume one by (I think) Ludovic Lalanne; 2: Bibliographical Curiosities, volume one by same; 3: French Historical Curiosities, by P. Jacob, first series, including the Feast of Fools, the King of the Ribauds, the Francs-Taupins, and Jesters of France, (And above all). . . and the second series of same. I'll come by for them tomorrow, around ten or ten-fifteen. -I'll be in your debt. They will be most useful. Arthur Rimbaud TO THEODORE DE BANVILLE Charleville (Ardennes), May 24, 1870 Cher Maitre, These are the months of love; I'm seventeen, the time of hope and chimeras, as they say, and so, a child blessed by the hand of the Muse (how trivial that must seem), I've set out to express my good thoughts, my hopes, my feelings, the provinces of poets-I call all of this spring. For if I have decided to send you a few poems-via the hands of Alp. Lemerre, that excellent editor-it is because I love all poets, all the good Parnassians-since the poet is inherently Parnassian-taken with ideal beauty; that is what draws me to you, however naively, your relation to Ronsard, a brother of the masters of 1830, a true romantic, a true poet. That is why. Silly, isn't it? But there it is. In two years, perhaps one, I will have made my way to Paris. -Anch'io, gentlemen of the press, I will be a Parnassian! Something within me . . . wants to break free . . . I swear, Master, to eternally adore the two goddesses, Muse and Liberty. Try to keep a straight face while reading my poems: You would make me ridiculously happy and hopeful were you, Maitre, to see if a little room were found for "Credo in Unam" among the Parnassians . . . I could appear in the final issue of le Parnasse: it would be a Credo for poets! Ambition! Such madness! Arthur Rimbaud *** Through blue summer nights I will pass along paths, Pricked by wheat, trampling short grass: Dreaming, I will feel coolness underfoot, Will let breezes bathe my bare head. Not a word, not a thought: Boundless love will surge through my soul, And I will wander far away, a vagabond In Nature-as happily as with a woman. April 20, 1870 A.R. OPHELIA I On calm black waters filled with sleeping stars White Ophelia floats like a lily, Floating so slowly, bedded in long veils . . . -Hunting horns rise from the distant forest. A thousand years without sad Ophelia, A white ghost on the long black river; A thousand years of her sweet madness Murmuring its ballad in the evening breeze. The wind kisses her breasts, arranges her veils In a wreath softly cradled by waters; Shivering willows weep at her shoulder, Reeds bend over her broad dreaming brow. Rumpled water lilies sigh around her; And up in a sleeping alder she sometimes stirs, A nest from which a tiny shiver of wings escapes: -A mysterious song falls from golden stars. II O pale Ophelia. Beautiful as snow. You died, child, borne away upon waters. Winds from high Norwegian mountains Whispered warnings of liberty's sting; Because a breath carried strange sounds To your restless soul, twisting your long hair, Your heart listened to Nature's song In grumbling trees and nocturnal sighs, Because deafening voices of wild seas Broke your infant breast, too human and too soft; Because one April morning, a pale, handsome knight, A poor fool, sat silent at your feet. Sky. Love. Liberty. What dreams, poor Ophelia. You meRimbaud, Arthur is the author of 'I Promise to Be Good The Letters of Arthur Rimbaud' with ISBN 9780679643012 and ISBN 067964301X.