This is a poem by Arthur Rimbaud called 'The Sleeper in the valley'. I used it in my other book as well, but I really like it so I'm gonna share it here as well <3
It's a green hollow where a river sings
Madly catching white tatters in the grass.
Where the sun on the proud mountain rings:
It's a little valley, foaming like light in a glass.
A conscript, open-mouthed, his bare head
And bare neck bathed in the cool blue cress,
Sleeps: stretched out, under the sky, on grass,
Pale where the light rains down on his green bed.
Feet in the yellow flags, he sleeps. Smiling
As a sick child might smile, he's dozing.
Nature, rock him warmly: he is cold.
The scents no longer make his nostrils twitch:
He sleeps in the sunlight, one hand on his chest,
Tranquil. In his right side, there are two red holes.
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia || poems, lyrics and quotes
PoetryMetanoia (n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life I do not own any of the pictures. Contains mentions of mental health.