The River Kelvin, June 12, 2001
I've been to a mystical land
To the underworld of the city
The world under the city is alive
Full of fairies it is, and legends
In the other city one breaths air in
Over- and out underworld
Here it's the other way around
Not that anyone notices though.
The bridges of the city cross this land
And no one suspects the world under it
As if to ponder it would be ridiculous
Or outlandishly silly. Oh, the city, the city.
...The city rushes to forget
The little beauties it gets
While the underworld sidders
Along the banks of the river...
By chance I stumbled upon the gate tonight
My gallant horse held its tred
And I could feel its fright, its curiosity too.
It had to go, to see, to feel to belong to.
The night was like a virgin
Reflected in the waters of the moon
Nursing us in the bossom of the stars
Collecting the early morning's dust-dew
It was, it was as if the day lingered
As if it sang an encore
And I, only I was there and listened
It sang "Guten Nacht, Freunde"
We floated underneath the world
Through the absence of time
Seeing clearly in the setting dusk
How my life makes sense. Finally
Beauty! Be care, be full.
Be care, be less.
Glasgow, June 2001. Email Ernst