Translations/Adaptations of Rimbaud
A breath opens operatic holes in the rooms, disrupts the balance of dying rooftops, destroys the limits of abject entryways, cuts window casements. Along the vine, having put my foot on a gargoyle there, I decscend into an open carriage, its age shown in the convex glass, rounded wood and contoured sofas. Oh, coach of my corpselike sleep -- solitary shepherd's ship of my confusion! -- The vehicle veers on the grass of the overgrown road. Above the right window a dent depicts pale moon-like figures of breast and leaf. A true blue and true green suffocate the scene. We unhitch in a place near a gravel pit. Whistle for Outrage! For Chaos! Sodoms and Solymans! For ferocious beasts and for the armies (rider and horse of my dreams in dense forests, will you again force silky spring on me up to my eyeballs?). Off we go, whipped in waves and the overturned drinks of water, rolling on the barks of dogs. A breath destroys the limits of abject entryways.
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