Rimbaud's "Song of the Highest Tower"
by Frank Watson
This is one of Rimbaud's later poems (he stopped creative writing at just 19) and perhaps reflects some sense of revulsion at the decadent and wild life he experienced in the previous few years.


My Translation

Song of the Highest Tower

Idle youth
Slave to all,

By delicate ways

I lost my life.

Ah! That the time comes

For hearts to fall in love.


I told myself:  leave,

Do not allow a soul to see you:

And without the promise

Of higher joys.

Let nothing stop,

Your noble retreat.


I have so much patience

That forever I forget;

Fears and suffering

Are parties to the heavens.

And the morbid thirst

Darkens my veins.


Thus the prairie

Of forgotten garb,

Grown and flowered,

Incense and rye

And the savage buzz

Of hundreds of filthy flies.


Ah! Thousands of widows,

Poor souls

Having only the image

Of Our Lady!

Do they pray

To the Virgin Mary?


Idle youth

Slave to all,

By delicate ways

I lost my life.

Ah! That the time comes

For hearts to fall in love.

Original French

Chanson de la plus haute tour

Oisive jeunesse
A tout asservie,

Par délicatesse

J'ai perdu ma vie.

Ah! Que le temps vienne

Où les coeurs s'éprennent.


Je me suis dit: laisse,

Et qu'on ne te voie:

Et sans la promesse

De plus hautes joies.

Que rien ne t'arrête,

Auguste retraite.


J'ai tant fait patience

Qu'à jamais j'oublie;

Craintes et souffrances

Aux cieux sont parties.

Et la soif malsaine

Obscurcit mes veines.


Ainsi la prairie

A l'oubli livrée,

Grandie, et fleurie

D'encens et d'ivraies

Au bourdon farouche

De cent sales mouches.


Ah! Mille veuvages

De la si pauvre âme

Qui n'a que l'image

De la Notre-Dame!

Est-ce que l'on prie

La Vierge Marie?


Oisive jeunesse

A tout asservie,

Par délicatesse

J'ai perdu ma vie.

Ah! Que le temps vienne

Où les coeurs s'éprennent!
All writings and translations are Copyright © by Frank Watson, also writing as "Blue Flute" (2011-2014).
Year: 
2011