Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TEAR, by ARTHUR RIMBAUD



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TEAR, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Far from the birds, the cattle herds, the village girls
Last Line: Weeping, I saw gold-and could not drink.


Far from the birds, the cattle herds, the village girls,
What did I drink, kneeling in this heather,
Surrounded by soft groves of hazel-trees,
In the green lukewarm haze of an afternoon?

What could I drink from this young stream, the Oise,
-Slender elms without speech, turf without blossoms, overcast skies! -
Drink in these yellow gourds, far from
My cherished hut? Some liquor of gold, which makes sweat.

I became a strange-looking signboard for a country inn.
-A storm swept through the sky. At night
The water of the groves vanished on the pure sands,
The breath of God flung icicles on ponds;

Weeping, I saw gold-and could not drink.





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