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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358598" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Over The Darkened City</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over the darkened city, the city of towers,<br>The city of a thousand gates,<br>Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the huddled towers,<br>Over a somnolent whisper of loves and hates,<br>The slow wind flows, drearily streams and falls,<br>With a mournful sound down rain-dark walls.<br>On one side purples the lustrous dusk of the sea,<br>And dreams in white at the city's feet;<br>On one side sleep the plains, with heaped-up hills.<br>Oaks and beeches whisper in rings about it.<br>Above the trees are towers where dread bells beat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fisherman draws his streaming net from the sea<br>And sails toward the far-off city, that seems<br>Like one vague tower.<br>The dark bow plunges to foam on blue-black waves,<br>And shrill rain seethes like a ghostly music about him<br>In a quiet shower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rain with a shrill sings on the lapsing waves;<br>Rain thrills over the roofs again;<br>Like a shadow of shifting silver it crosses the city;<br>The lamps in the streets are streamed with rain;<br>And sparrows complain beneath deep eaves,<br>And among whirled leaves<br>The sea-gulls, blowing from tower to lower tower,<br>From wall to remoter wall,<br>Skim with the driven rain to the rising sea-sound<br>And close grey wings and fall . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">. . . Hearing great rain above me, I now remember<br>A girl who stood by the door and shut her eyes:<br>Her pale cheeks glistened with rain, she stood and shivered.<br>Into a forest of silver she vanished slowly . . .<br>Voices about me rise . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Voices clear and silvery, voices of raindrops,-<br>'We struck with silver claws, we struck her down.<br>We are the ghosts of the singing furies . . . '<br>A chorus of elfin voices blowing about me<br>Weaves to a babel of sound. Each cries a secret.<br>I run among them, reach out vain hands, and drown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am the one who stood beside you and smiled,<br>Thinking your face so strangely young . . . '<br>'I am the one who loved you but did not dare.'<br>'I am the one you followed through crowded streets,<br>The one who escaped you, the one with red-gleamed hair.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am the one you saw to-day, who fell<br>Senseless before you, hearing a certain bell:<br>A bell that broke great memories in my brain.'<br>'I am the one who passed unnoticed before you,<br>Invisible, in a cloud of secret pain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am the one who suddenly cried, beholding<br>The face of a certain man on the dazzling screen.<br>They wrote me that he was dead. It was long ago.<br>I walked in the streets for a long while, hearing nothing,<br>And returned to see it again. And it was so.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Weave, weave, weave, you streaks of rain!<br>I am dissolved and woven again . . .<br>Thousands of faces rise and vanish before me.<br>Thousands of voices weave in the rain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am the one who rode beside you, blinking<br>At a dazzle of golden lights.<br>Tempests of music swept me: I was thinking<br>Of the gorgeous promise of certain nights:<br>Of the woman who suddenly smiled at me this day,<br>Smiled in a certain delicious sidelong way,<br>And turned, as she reached the door,<br>To smile once more . . .<br>Her hands are whiter than snow on midnight water.<br>Her throat is golden and full of golden laughter,<br>Her eyes are strange as the stealth of the moon<br>On a night in June . . .<br>She runs among whistling leaves; I hurry after;<br>She dances in dreams over white-waved water;<br>Her body is white and fragrant and cool,<br>Magnolia petals that float on a white-starred pool . . .<br>I have dreamed of her, dreaming for many nights<br>Of a broken music and golden lights,<br>Of broken webs of silver, heavily falling<br>Between my hands and their white desire:<br>And dark-leaved boughs, edged with a golden radiance,<br>Dipping to screen a fire . . .<br>I dream that I walk with her beneath high trees,<br>But as I lean to kiss her face,<br>She is blown aloft on wind, I catch at leaves,<br>And run in a moonless place;<br>And I hear a crashing of terrible rocks flung down,<br>And shattering trees and cracking walls,<br>And a net of intense white flame roars over the town,<br>And someone cries; and darkness falls . . .<br>But now she has leaned and smiled at me,<br>My veins are afire with music,<br>Her eyes have kissed me, my body is turned to light;<br>I shall dream to her secret heart tonight . . . '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He rises and moves away, he says no word,<br>He folds his evening paper and turns away;<br>I rush through the dark with rows of lamplit faces;<br>Fire bells peal, and some of us turn to listen,<br>And some sit motionless in their accustomed places.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cold rain lashes the car-roof, scurries in gusts,<br>Streams down the windows in waves and ripples of lustre;<br>The lamps in the streets are distorted and strange.<br>Someone takes his watch from his pocket and yawns.<br>One peers out in the night for the place to change.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rain . . . rain . . . rain . . . we are buried in rain,<br>It will rain forever, the swift wheels hiss through water,<br>Pale sheets of water gleam in the windy street.<br>The pealing of bells is lost in a drive of rain-drops.<br>Remote and hurried the great bells beat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am the one whom life so shrewdly betrayed,<br>Misfortune dogs me, it always hunted me down.<br>And to-day the woman I love lies dead.<br>I gave her roses, a ring with opals;<br>These hands have touched her head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I bound her to me in all soft ways,<br>I bound her to me in a net of days,<br>Yet now she has gone in silence and said no word.<br>How can we face these dazzling things, I ask you?<br>There is no use: we cry: and are not heard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'They cover a body with roses . . . I shall not see it . . .<br>Must one return to the lifeless walls of a city<br>Whose soul is charred by fire? . . . '<br>His eyes are closed, his lips press tightly together.<br>Wheels hiss beneath us. He yields us our desire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'No, do not stare so-he is weak with grief,<br>He cannot face you, he turns his eyes aside;<br>He is confused with pain.<br>I suffered this. I know. It was long ago . . .<br>He closes his eyes and drowns in death again.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind hurls blows at the rain-starred glistening windows,<br>The wind shrills down from the half-seen walls.<br>We flow on the mournful wind in a dream of dying;<br>And at last a silence falls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Conrad+Potter+Aiken">Conrad Potter Aiken</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358598" data-title="Over The Darkened City de Conrad Potter Aiken" data-description="Over the darkened city, the city of towers,
The city of a thousand gates,
Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the huddled towers,
Over a somnolent whisper of loves and hates,
The slow wind flows, drearily streams and falls,
With a mournful sound dow..."></div>
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