Strange weather we've been having lately, said I to my friend.
This is only the beginning, my friend said to me.
The hallucinations are innumerable.
Indeed this has always been my problem: no faith in history, total obliviousness to the principles on which it's based.
I'll say no more about this. Poets and visionaries would be envious of me.
Look, the clock of life has just stopped. I'm no longer in the world.
Theology wasn't kidding: hell is certainly down there.
And the sky is up.
Ecstasy, nightmare, sleep in a nest of flames...
And I will now strip away the veils that conceal all the mysteries: religious, natural; death, birth; future, past; cosmogony, nothingness. I will make the phantasmagoria dance.
...The flame rises again, with its damned soul!
"Les hallucinations sont innombrables...": Nuit en Enfer, from Une Saison en Enfer: Arthur Rimbaud, 1873
The sky after tonight's storm: photo by Barry Janowitz, June 26, 2009
Freakin' weird weather (mammatus clouds, New York City): photo by Jason Kuffer, June 26. 2009
Montage en rouge: Arthur Rimbaud et éruption volcanique: image by PRA, 2007