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My Bohemian
I was leaving, my fists in my punctured pockets; My overcoat also became ideal; I was going under the sky, Muse! and I was your stalwart; Oh ! the ! the ! What splendid loves have I dreamed of!
My only panties had a large hole. - Tom Thumb dreamer, I shelled in my race Rhymes. My inn was at the Grande-Ourse. - My stars in the sky had a soft frou-frou
And I listened to them, sitting by the roadside, Those good September evenings when I felt drops Dew on my brow, like a strong wine;
Where, rhyming in the midst of fantastic shadows, Like lyres, I pulled the rubber bands Of my injured shoes, one foot close to my heart!
Arthur Rimbaud, Notebook of Douai (1870)
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