What Nina answered by Arthur Rimbaud
He: Just the two of us together,
Okay? We could go
Through the fresh and pleasant weather
In the cool glow
Of the blue morning, washed in
The wine of day…
When all the love-struck forest
Quivers, bleeds
From each branch; clear drops tremble,
Bright buds blow,
Everything opens and vibrates;
All things grow.
You rush about, and alfalfa
Stains your white gown,
As the shadows beneath your eyelids
Fade in the clear dawn.
Madly in love with the country,
You sprinkle about
Like shining champagne bubbles
Your crazy laugh:
Laughing at me, and I’d be brutal
And I’d grab your hair
Like this—how beautiful,
Oh!—In the air
Your strawberry-raspberry taste,
Your flowery flesh!
Laughing at the wind that kissed
You like a thief,
At the eglantine you stumble in
(It loves you, too!)
Laughing most of all, little dummy,
At me with you!
Just the two of us together,
Our voices joined,
Slowly we’d wander farther
Into the wood…
Then, like the girl in the fairy tale
You’d start to faint;
You’d tell me to carry you
With half a wink…
I’d carry you quivering
Beneath a tree;
A bird nearby is whistling:
“Who loves to lie with me…”
I’d whisper into your mouth,
Put you to bed,
Your body curled like a baby’s
Drunk on the blood
That flows, blue, beneath the softness
Of skin like snow;
Whispering about those shameless
Things… you know…
Our woods smell of springtime,
And the sun
Powders with gold their vision
Vermilion and green.
At night? We’ll return on the shining
White road that goes
Idly along, like a flock browsing;
Around us grows
The blue grass of lovely orchards,
Their bending trees;
For miles around as you wander
You smell their scent!
We’ll get back to the village
Just at duck,
And smell the odor of milking
On the evening air,
And the warm smell of stables
Full of manure,
Of a calm rhythm of breathing
And of broad backs
Pale in the light of a lantern;
And there below
A cow drops dung, dignified
And slow.
Grandmother’s eyeglasses sparkle
As she peers
In her prayerbook; a tin bucket
Of beer
Foams in the front of long pipes
That happily expel
Clouds of smoke; the flapping faces,
Smoking still,
Shove in ham by forkfuls:
Lots, then more;
The fire lights the cupboards
And beds on the floor.
The fat shiny bottom
Of a husky kid
Crawling to lick the dishes,
His tow head
Tousled by a huge hound dog
With a soft growl,
Who licks the round features
Of the dear child…
Dark, on the edge of her chair,
An arrogant profile—
An old woman spinning
By the fire.
What things we’ll see, my darling,
In those farms,
By those bright fires sparkling
In dark windowpanes!
Then, tiny, hidden under
A lilac bush, fresh
And shady: a little window
Just for us…
I love you! Come! Come for
A beautiful walk!
You will come, won’t your? What’s more…
She: And be late for work?
