Here's my attempt at a translation.

Dreamed of Winter - Arthur Rimbaud

This winter, we will go in a little pink carriage
With blue cushions.
We will be fine. A nest of insane kisses rest
In every soft corner.
You will close your eye, so as not to see, by the ice,
The faces of the evening shadows
The horrible monstrosities, the mob
Of black demons and black wolves.
Then you will feel your cheek scratched
A small kiss, like an insane spider
Will run down your neck...
And you will say to me, "Look!", while inclining your head,
-And we will take time to find this beast
-Who travels so much...