Shadow Journal

How enduring, how we need durability

The sky before sunrise is soaked with light

Rosy colour tints buildings, bridges, and the Seine

I was here when she with whom I walk wasn’t born yet

And the cities on a distant plain stood intact

Before they rose in the air with the dust of sepulchral brick

And the people who lived there didn’t know

Only this moment, at dawn, is real to me

The bygone lives are like my own past life, uncertain

I cast a spell on the city, asking it to last