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No history much? Perhaps. Only this ominous
Dark beauty flowering under veils,
Trapped in the spectrum of read more
No history much? Perhaps. Only this ominous
Dark beauty flowering under veils,
Trapped in the spectrum of a dying style:
A village like an instinct left to rust,
Composed around the echo of a pistol-shot.
What is the city but the people?
What is the city but the people?
When you look at a city, it's like reading the hopes, aspirations and pride of everyone who built it.
When you look at a city, it's like reading the hopes, aspirations and pride of everyone who built it.
Unless the Lord keep the city the watchman waketh in vain.
[Lat., Nisi Dominus frustra.]
Unless the Lord keep the city the watchman waketh in vain.
[Lat., Nisi Dominus frustra.]
A rose-red city half as old as Time.
A rose-red city half as old as Time.
I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me; and to me
High read more
I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me; and to me
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
Of human cities torture.
In the busy haunts of men.
In the busy haunts of men.
Petite ville, grand renom.
Small town, great renown.
Petite ville, grand renom.
Small town, great renown.
Even cities have their graves!
Even cities have their graves!
