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



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WORKERS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, that warm february morning. The untimely south wind came
Last Line: Cherished image behind.


Ah, that warm February morning! The untimely South wind came rekindling
memories of our absurd poverty, our young indigence.
Henrika had a skirt of brown- and white-checked cotton, probably fashionable a
century ago, a bonnet trimmed with ribbons, and a silk kerchief. It was much
sadder than a bereavement. We took a stroll in the suburbs. The weather looked
ominous and the South wind stirred up all the evil smells of parched fields and
ravaged gardens.
And from this, my wife seemed less tired than I. In a puddle left by floods
the month before, on a rather high path, she pointed out a school of tiny fish.
The city, with its smoke and noise of men at work, followed us far out along
the roads. Ah, the other world, heaven's blessed dwelling-place, and umbrage!
The South wind reminded me of the tawdry events of my childhood, my disappointed
summers, and how awfully much fate cheated me out of cleverness and strength.
No! We will not spend the summer in this stingy country where we shall never be
anything but betrothed orphans. No longer do I want this strong arm to drag a
cherished image behind.





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