<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581722" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Vistula</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A cascade of ices, cold fury <br>gargling down the Beskids<br>waiting basket of Baltic, <br>great span of your lakes<br>infinite stretch of Mazury-<br>you, marshal land-giver-<br>to our lives along banks<br>into houses and history- <br>what do you make of us, <br>God of this river? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those who would plumb <br>the crevice dry cracks<br>fetch in your mystery, <br>the deep green in you, <br>River whose currents still<br>shape us with influence, <br>run blood in our vein-sinew<br>wild into your wilderness, <br>What do you build in us<br>God of this river? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As we cross the ice packs<br>winter’s water hidden us <br>floods and droughts sung <br>to your rhythm- fit eyes <br>flicked at the universe, <br>town’s heart pumps a pulse<br>just a mere quiver, under<br>thick ice for so long, what<br>have you forbidden us.<br>God of this river? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For us the smart facts, snatch<br>a glimpse of you from high <br>bridges across in the rush<br>cars trams train and bus <br>fast metros under you<br>to nest in sky-scrapers<br>shrinking you down to <br>a summer’s small slither<br>our lives blunder through<br>your slow current’s residue<br>What thinking, wonder you<br>pagan God of this River?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+a%27Beckett">John a'Beckett</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=581722" data-title="Vistula de John a'Beckett" data-description="A cascade of ices, cold fury gargling down the Beskids waiting basket of Baltic, great span of your lakes infinite stretch of Mazury- you, marshal land-giver- to our lives along banks into houses and history- what do you make of us, God of thi..."></div> </div> </div>

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