As I walk in the sun
Over the slow-flowing Rhine,
My mind is on things not said, not done;
People I’ve let down, who let me down -
The great, growing weight of neglected things.
Strasbourg itself is in no hurry.
It has been dreaming here for centuries -
Cathedral-crowned, canal-streaked, solid;
A place for major gods and minor kings.
One man is not large enough to breathe deeply.
Only a city can do it - late at night,
When no one is around,
Inhaling the sweat, the sadness, of millions,
The living and the dead,
Exhaling its own pure thoughts.
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