Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A SEASON IN HELL: MORNING, by ARTHUR RIMBAUD



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A SEASON IN HELL: MORNING, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Yet now I think I have finished the tale of my inferno
Last Line: The song of the skies, the march of peoples! Slaves, let us not curse life.
Subject(s): Christmas; Nativity, The


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Yet now I think I have finished the tale of my inferno. And inferno it was:
the old one, whose gates the Son of Man flung open.
From the same desert, on the same night, my eyes still awake to the silvery
star, still, as the Kings of life, the Three Magi, heart, soul, and mind sleep
untroubled. When shall we go beyond shores and mountains, to greet the birth of
new labors, the new wisdom, the putting to flight of tyrants and demons, the end
of superstition, and worship -the very first! -Noel on earth.
The song of the skies, the march of peoples! Slaves, let us not curse life.





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