الحلم الأمومي بساطٌ دافئ ، عشٌ من القطن يلبد فيه صغار - Arthur Rimbaud

Priests, professors, masters, you are wrong to turn me over to Justice. I have never belonged to this people. I have never been Christian. I am of the race that sang under torture. I do not understand your laws. I have no moral sense, I am a brute.

I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.