A season in Cairo / by Arthur Rimbaud and Marcin Lodyga

The introduction to my book about Yellowism has already been written :
My turn now. The story of one of my insanities.
For a long time I boasted that I was master of all possible landscapes and I thought the great figures of modern painting and poetry were laughable.
I dreamed of Crusades, voyages of discovery that nobody had heard of, republics without histories, religious wars stamped out, revolutions in morals, movements of races and continents: I used to believe in every kind of magic.
I invented color for the vowels! - A yellow, E yellow, I yellow, O yellow, U yellow, Y yellow - I made rules for the form and movement of every consonant, and I boasted of inventing, with rhythms from within me, a kind of poetry that all the senses, sooner or later, would recognize. And I alone would be its translator.
I made the whirling world stand still.