To A Reason

A rap of your finger on the drum
fires all the sounds
and starts a new harmony.
A step of yours: the levy of new men
and their marching on.

Your head turns away:
O the new love!
Your head turns back:
O the new love!

'Change our lots, confound the plagues,
beginning with time,'
to you these children sing.
'Raise no matter where the substance
of our fortune and our desires,'
they beg you.

Arrival of all time,
who will go everywhere.

by Arthur Rimbaud

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.