Arthur Rimbaud at 17 and 170

Larry Wolf, Two Portraits of Arthur Rimbaud at 17 by Etienne Carjat 1871
as seen through the pages in Wyatt Mason Rimbaud Complete 2002 (2024)

Patti Smith reminded me that yesterday, 20 October (1854), was Arthur Rimbaud's birthday. She recited a poem, I think her own translation, transcribed by me, with apologies for any errors.

My Bohemia

Fists in torn pockets, I departed.

My overcoat grew ideal too. 

I walked your night, oh muse,

And dreamed, oh what glorious love.

My only trousers had a hole.

Little Tom Thumb,

I dropped my dreaming rhymes,

My lodging was the great Bear Inn.

And in the sky my stars were rustling.

I listened seated by the road 

In soft September 

Where the dew was wine vigor on my face.

And in weird shadows rhyming

Plucked like lyres the laces of my martyred shoes,

One foot against my heart.