Plus léger qu'un bouchon j'ai dansé sur les flots.
Lighter than a cork I danced on the waves.
St. 4
Plus douce qu'aux enfants la chair des pommes sures, L'eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin.
Sweeter than apples to children The green water spurted through my pine-wood hull.
St. 5
Je me suis baigné dans le Poème De la Mer... Dévorant les azurs verts.
I have bathed in the Poem Of the Sea... Devouring the green azures.
St. 6
J'ai vu le soleil bas, taché d'horreurs mystiques, Illuminant de longs figements violets, Pareils à des acteurs de drames très-antiques.
I have seen the sunset, stained with mystic horrors, Illumine the rolling waves with long purple forms, Like actors in ancient plays.
St. 9
J'ai vu des archipels sidéraux! et des îles Dont les cieux délirants sont ouverts au vogueur: Est-ce en ces nuits sans fond que tu dors et t'exiles, Million d'oiseaux d'or, ô future Vigueur?
I have seen starry archipelagoes! and islands Whose raving skies are opened to the voyager: Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep, in exile, A million golden birds, O future Vigor?
What Rimbaud did for language, and not merely for poetry, is only beginning to be understood. And this more by readers than by writers, I feel. At least, in our country. Nearly all the modern French poets have been influenced by him. Indeed, one might say that contemporary French poetry owes everything to Rimbaud. Thus far, however, none have gone beyond him — in daring or invention.
Henry Miller, (1984). The Time of the Assassins: A Study of Rimbaud. London: Quartet Books.