Rimbaud Villes

I am an ephemeral citizen, none too shabby, of a metropolis considered modern, because the furnishings and exteriors of its buildings, as well as the whole city plan, have eluded every recognized standard of taste. Here you wouldn't indicate the contours of a single edifice of fable. Morality and language have been reduced to their simplest expression, at last! These millions of men who have no need of self-understanding fulfill their educations, occupations, and deterioration so equitably that the course of life ought to be many times shorter than some foolish statistic finds for the peoples of this continent. Just as, from my window, I see new spectralities rolling through the weight and eternal smoke of coal, -- our shadow of wood, our nocturne of summer! -- new Erynnies in front of my cottage, which is my country and all my heart, because everything here resembles this, -- Death without tears, our busy daughter and servant, a disappointed Love and a pretty Crime howling in the muck by the way.