'A wanderer by trade'

I watched 'I'm not there' again yesterday and forgot how great it was. It lead me to do a little more digging into a few of Dylan's personas. So as I sit up here at Alta, more content than a hibernating grizzly bear, I thought it would be a good idea to read a little poetry by Arthur Rimbaud. I found a great one called 'My Bohemian Life:'



I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
My overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I traveled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh dear me! what marvelous loves I dreamed of!

My only pair of breeches had a big whole in them.
Stargazing Tom Thumb, I sowed rhymes along my way.
My tavern was at the Sign of the Great Bear.
My stars in the sky rustled softly.

And I listened to them, sitting on the road-sides
On those pleasant September evenings while I felt drops
Of dew on my forehead like vigorous wine;
And while, rhyming among the fantastical shadows,
I plucked like the strings of a lyre the elastics
Of my tattered boots, one foot close to my heart!


My wanderlust is getting out of hand.

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