[lit-ideas] Re: Rimbaud
- From: Judy Evans <judithevans001@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Tue, 8 Feb 2005 23:36:28 +0000
Tuesday, February 8, 2005, 11:19:53 PM, William Ball wrote:
WB> Si je ne me trompe pas de nouveau...
WB> Le poeme le plus connu de Rimbaud est, peut etre, "Le Bateau Ivre,
WB> donc, the battleship grey and the mal de mer couleur vomit green sont
WB> tres a propos....
Vous avez un point.
WB> Enfin, je n'ai jamais compris le poeme jusque ici.
Voila!
The Drunk Boat
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As I went down from the impassive Rivers,
I did not feel drawn any more by the boat-towers:
Yelling Skin-Reds had taken them for targets
The having nailed naked ones with the posts of colors.
I was heedless of all the crews,
English cotton and Flemish corn carrier.
When with my boat-towers these dins finished
The Rivers let me go down where I wanted.
In the furious clapotements of the tides,
Me, the other winter, deafer than the brains of children,
I run! And started Peninsulas
Did not undergo tohu-bohus more triumphing.
The storm blessed my maritime awakenings.
Lighter than a stopper I danced on the floods
That one calls eternal wheelers of victims,
Ten nights, without regretting the eye denied hand lanterns!
Softer than with the children flesh of sure apples,
Green water penetrated my hull of fir tree
And of the blue wine spots and the vomits
Washed me, dispersant rudder and hook.
And consequently, I bathed in the Poem
Sea, infused stars, and lactescent,
Devouring the green azure; where, pale floating
And delighted, one drowned pensive sometimes goes down;
Where, dyeing the bleuities suddenly, be delirious
And slow rates/rhythms under the rutilements of the day,
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than our quadrants,
Bitter rednesses of the love ferment!
I know the skies bursting in flashes, and the waterspouts
And undertows and currents: I know the evening,
The paddle exalt=E9e as well as people of doves,
And I saw some times what the man believed to see!
I saw the low sun, stained mystical horrors,
Illuminating long purple solidifyings,
Similar with actors of dramas very-antiques
Floods rolling to far their shivers from shutters!
I dreamed the green night with dazzled snows,
To kiss going up to the eyes of the seas with slownesses,
The circulation of the saps inou=EFes
And yellow and blue awakening of phosphorus singers!
I followed, of the full months, similar with the nasty tricks
Hystericals, the swell with the attack of the reefs,
Without thinking that the luminous feet of Marry
Could force the boor with the puffing Oceans!
I ran up, know you, of incredible Floridas
Mixing with the flowers with the eyes of the panthers with skins
Men! Rainbows tended like supports
Under the horizon of the seas, with glaucous herds!
I saw fermenting the enormous marshes, bow nets
Where in the snap rings a whole L=E9viathan rots!
Water collapse in the medium of the bonacees,
And distances towards the pits cataractant!
Glaciers, suns of money, nacreux floods, ember skies!
Hideous strandings at the bottom of the brown gulfs
Where devoured giant snakes of bugs
Choient, of the twisted trees, with blacks perfumes!
I would have liked to show to the children these sea-breams
Blue flood, these fish of gold, these fish singing.
- scums of flowers rocked my d=E9rades
And of unutterable winds have me winged per moment.
Sometimes, wearied martyr of the poles and the zones,
The sea whose sob made my soft rolling
Assembled towards me its flowers of shades to the yellow suction cups
And I remained, as well as a woman with knees...
Almost island, balottant on my edges the quarrels
And fientes of birds clabotteurs to the fair eyes.
And I sailed when through my frail bonds
Drowned went down to sleep with move back!
However me, boat lost under the hair of the handles,
Jet=E9 by the hurricane in ether without bird,
Me of which Monitors and sailing ships of Hanses
Would not have rep=E9ch=E9 the drunk water carcass;
Free, smoking, assembled fogs violets,
Me which perforated the sky rougeoyant like a wall
Who carries, exquisite jam with the good poets,
Sun lichens and snots of azure;
Who ran, stained electric lunules,
Insane board, escorted black hippocampi,
When the juillets made run with blows of cudgel
The skies ultramarins with the burning funnels;
Me which trembled, feeling geindre with fifty miles
Rut of B=E9h=E9mots and Maelstroms thick,
Spinner eternal of the blue immobilities,
I regret Europe with the old parapets!
I saw sidereal archipelagoes! and of the islands
Whose delirious skies are opened to the voguor:
- this in these nights bottomless Is which you sleep and exile you,
Million gold birds, =F4 future strength? -
But, truth, I cried too much! The Paddles are disturbing.
Any moon is atrocious and any bitter sun:
The bitter love inflated me torpors enivrantes.
=D4 how my skittle bursts! =D4 that I go to the sea!
If I wish a water of Europe, it is the depression
Black and cold where towards the embaum=E9 twilight
A squatted child full with sadnesses, loose
A frail boat like a butterfly of May.
I then, bathed more your languors, =F4 blades,
To remove their wakes with the cotton carriers,
Nor to cross the pride of the flags and the flames,
Nor to swim under the horrible eyes of let us bridge.
Arthur Rimbaud=20
Google trans., original:
www.feelingsurfer.net/garp/poesie/Rimbaud.LeBateauIvre.html
--=20
mailto:judithevans001@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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