how enduring, how we need durability.
the sky before sunrise is soaked with light.
rosy color 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.