The room is open to the turquoise blue sky;
by Arthur Rimbaud
no room here: boxes and bins!
Outside the wall is overgrown with birthwort
where the brownies' gums buzz.
How truly there are the plots of genii -
this expense and this foolish untidiness!
It is the African fairy who supplies
the mulberry and the hairnets in the corners.
Several, cross godmothers [dressed] in skirts of light,
go into the cupboards, and stay there!
The people of the house are out,
they are not serious, an nothing gets done.
The bridegroom has the wind which cheats him
during his absence, here, all the time.
Even some water sprites, mischievous,
come in t wander about among the spheres under the bed.
At night, beloved oh! The honeymoon will gather their smiles
and fill the sky with a thousand copper diadems.
Then they will have to deal with the crafty rat. -
As long as no ghastly will O;
the wisp comes, like a gunshot, after vespers, -
O holy white Sprits of Bethlehem, charm,
rather than that, the blueness of their window!