Heat phasing in and out of its inner container. Sometimes even at the most serene mountain A gust carries the hopes of men away. Nor do physical objects disappear.
Fire looks into the eyes And sees a vast desert.
Hence to destroy the cool valleys Lying abottom the majestic chateaux. And allows in the great heat To the very essence of our magical cleanliness. Yet Africa witnesses no magic to its avail. In the midst of every London Lies a statue like a caressing finger. Lights buzz with the electricity of day.