the breeze

This cozy cotton bower conceals
Zephyr wrapped in sweet perfume;
In a silk and woolen womb,
Zephyr sleeps with laughing heels.

When the Zephyr lifts his wing
In his cotton-down retreat,
When he flies where robins sing,
His soft breath smells so sweet!

O quintessential breeze!
O distillate of love!
Day’s dew as it dries
Perfumes the sky above!

Jesus! Joseph! Jesus! Mary!
This odor, like a condor’s wing,
Cradles the devotionary …
It sweetens us and makes us sing!

Arthur Rimbaud

dream in wintertime

All winter we’ll wander in a red wagon
With cushions of blue.
Nice and warm. With a nest of creepy kisses
Just for us two.

You shut your eyes and won’t look out the window
Where shadows lurk:
Hordes of black wolves and black demons and nightmares
Inhabit the dark.

And then in panic suddenly you feel
A little kiss, like a scared spider, crawl
Across your cheek …

You turn to me to help you find the beast,
And of course I promise to do my best,
If it takes all week …

Arthur Rimbaud