Go to send for.
Have you say that?
Have you understand that he says?
At what purpose have say so?
At what o’clock dine him?
Apply you at the study during that you are young.
Dress your hairs.
Sing an area.
These apricots and these peaches make me and to come water in the mouth.
How do you can it to deny?
Wax my shoes.
This is that I have think.
That are the dishes whose you must be and to abstain.
This ink is white.
This room is filled of bugs.
This girl have a beauty edge.
It is a noise which to cleave the head.
This wood is fill of thief’s.
Tell me, it can one to know?
Give me some good milk newly get out.
Dry this wine.
He laughs at my nose, he jest by me.
He has spit in my coat.
He has me take out my hairs.
He does me some kicks.
He has scratch the face with hers nails.
He burns one’s self the brains.
He is valuable his weight’s gold.
He has the world for to laugh.
He do the devil at four.
He make to weep the room.
It must never to laugh of the unhappies.
He was wanting to be killed.
I am confused all yours civilities.
I am catched cold.
Till say-us?
Till hither.
I have put my stockings outward.
I have croped the candle.
I have mind to vomit.
I will not to sleep on street.
I am catched cold in the brain.
I am pinking me with a pin.
I dead myself in envy to see her.
I take a broth all morning.
Have you understanded?
Let him have know?
Have you understand they?
Do you know they?
Do you know they to?
The storm is go over.
The sun begins to dissipe it.
Witch prefer you?
The paving stone is sliphery.
The thunderbolt is falling down.
The rose-trees begins to button.
The ears are too length.
The hands itch at him.
Have you forgeted me?
Dont you are awaken yet?
That should must me to cost my life.
We are in the canicule.
No budge you there.
If can’t to please at every one’s.
Take that boy and whip him to much.
Take attention to cut you self.
Take care to dirt you self.
Dress my horse.
Since you not go out, I shall go out nor I neither.
That may dead if I lie you.
What is it who want you?
Why you no helps me to?
Upon my live.
All trees have very deal bear.
A throat’s ill.
You shall catch cold one’s.
You make grins.
Will some mutton?
Will you fat or slight?
Will you this?
Will you a bon?
You not make who to babble.
You not make that to prate all day’s work.
You interompt me.
You mistake you self heavily.
You come too rare.

From the lost notebooks of Arthur Rimbaud. Or from English As She Is Spoke, now online in full. Thanks to Leroy Huizenga for pointing it out to me.