Two Poems by Rimbaud Pt. 1

"IS SHE A DANCER . . . ?"

Is she a dancer . . . ? In the first blue hours

Will she perish like wilting flowers . . .

Before the breathtaking vista, you feel

The burgeoning city's blossoming breath!

It's too beautiful! It's too beautiful! But essential . . .

-For the Fisherwoman and the Pirate's song,

And because the last masked souls still believed

In evening celebrations on a pure dark sea!

July 1872

Two Poems by Rimbaud Pt. 2

SHAME

If the knife has yet

To cut his head, or gut

This pale fat greenish mass

Of endless gas,

(Him? Let him lop

Off his nose, his lips, ears

And belly. While he's at it

Lose the legs! Better still.)

But, no, seriously: I think

If blade to neck

And stones to sides

And fires to gut

Have not yet cut, struck, or burned

This pain-in-the-ass kid,

Why should the bastard cease

To betray and cheat

Like a Rocky Mountain cat

Can't stop stinking up the world.

But when he dies, O Lord,

May someone say a prayer.

August 1872