1 мин
Слушать(AI)Obscur Et Fronce
Dark, wrinkled as a purple pink,
It breathes, it nestles in that bed of moss,
Still damp from love, which hugs the slope,
The white thighs' slope, to crater's heart.
Threads, gossamer, milky
Wept, wept, in scouring
That drove them on clots of scarlet
Till they tumbled on the edge, were gone.
My dreams touch kisses, kisses to the gate.
Soul envies couplings of the flesh,
Its tear-bottle this, its nest of sobs.
Ecstatic olive!
Seductive flute!
Throat sucking almond-sweet sublime!
Moss-circled, female, promised land!
Arthur Rimbaud
Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud (20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891) was a French poet known for his influence on modern literature and arts, prefig
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
To Music À la Musique
On the square which is chopped into mean little plots of grass, The square where all is just so, both the trees and the flowers, All the wheezy townsfolk whom the heat chokes Each Thursday evening, their envious silliness
My Bohemian Existence
I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;my overcoat too was becoming ideal; I travelled beneath the sky, Muse and I was your vassal;
City
I am an ephemeral and a not too discontented citizen of a metropolis considered modern because all known taste has been evaded in the furnishings and the exterior of the houses as well as in the layout of the city Here you will fail to detect...
The Cupboard
It's a board carved wooden cupboard; the ancient dark-coloured oak has taken on that pleasant air that old people have; the cupboard is open, and gives off from its kindly shadows inviting aromas like a breath of old wine; full to overflowing, it'...