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's a jumble of quaint old things: fragrant yellowed linen, rags of women's or children's clothes, faded laces, grandmothers' kerchiefs embroidered with griffins; - here you could find lockets, and locks of white or blonde hair, portraits and dried flowers whose smell mingles with the smell of fruit. - O cupboard of old times, you know plenty of stories; and you'd like to tell them; and you clear your throat every time your great dark doors slowly open.
Arthur Rimbaud
Other author posts
Dawn
I have kissed the summer dawn Before the palaces, nothing moved The water lay dead Battalions of shadows still kept the forest road
Sensation
On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths, Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass : In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet
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
The Sly One
In the brown dining-room, which was perfumed with the scent of polish and fruit, I was shoveling up at my ease a plateful of some Belgian dish or other, and sprawling in my enormous chair While I ate, I listened, happy and silent, t...