dve o samoti

arthur rimbaud: sensation
par les soirs bleus d'été, j'irai dans les sentiers,
picoté par les blés, fouler l'herbe menue,
rêveur, j'en sentirai la fraîcheur à mes pieds.
je laisserai le vent baigner ma tête nue.
je ne parlerai pas, je ne penserai rien :
mais l'amour infini me montera dans l'âme,
et j'irais loin, bien loin, comme un bohémien,
par la nature, heureux comme avec une femme

in za tiste, ki ne znamo francosko, čeprav bi se spodobilo:

arthur rimbaud: a feeling
on summer evenings i shall take the bridle ways
wheat pecking at my wrists, slim grass beneath my thread
i'll let its coolness penetrate my dreamy haze
and let the wind wash over my uncovered head.
i shall not speak, i shall not think of anything
but through my soul will surge all love's infinity.
far, far away i'll go, a gipsy wandering
content in nature as in woman's company.

to je vedel tudi byron (v romanju grofiča harolda):

there is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
there is a rapture on the lonely shore,
there is society where none intrudes,
by the deep sea, and music in its roar:
i love not man the less, but nature more,
from these our interviews, in which i steal
from all i may be, or have been before,
to mingle with the universe, and feel
what i can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.