在黑暗的城市，城楼之城，千门之城，在闪闪发光的梯田屋顶上，在拥挤的塔楼上，在爱与恨的昏睡低语上，缓慢的风吹过，凄凉的溪流和落下，带着哀伤的声音，落在被雨染黑的城墙上。一边是有光泽的黄昏的大海的紫色，和城市脚下白色的梦;一边是群山叠嶂的平原。橡树和山毛榉围绕着它低语。树的上方是塔楼，可怕的钟声在那里响起。渔夫从海上拉起他那流着水的网，向远处的城市航行，那似乎是一座模糊的塔。黑暗的船头在蓝黑色的波浪上激起泡沫，在安静的阵雨中，尖锐的雨在他周围沸腾，像幽灵般的音乐。雨在逝去的波浪上尖声歌唱;雨又在屋顶上激荡;它像一个移动的银影穿过城市; The lamps in the streets are streamed with rain; And sparrows complain beneath deep eaves, And among whirled leaves The sea-gulls, blowing from tower to lower tower, From wall to remoter wall, Skim with the driven rain to the rising sea-sound And close grey wings and fall . . . . . . Hearing great rain above me, I now remember A girl who stood by the door and shut her eyes: Her pale cheeks glistened with rain, she stood and shivered. Into a forest of silver she vanished slowly . . . Voices about me rise . . . Voices clear and silvery, voices of raindrops,- 'We struck with silver claws, we struck her down. We are the ghosts of the singing furies . . . ' A chorus of elfin voices blowing about me Weaves to a babel of sound. Each cries a secret. I run among them, reach out vain hands, and drown. 'I am the one who stood beside you and smiled, Thinking your face so strangely young . . . ' 'I am the one who loved you but did not dare.' 'I am the one you followed through crowded streets, The one who escaped you, the one with red-gleamed hair.' 'I am the one you saw to-day, who fell Senseless before you, hearing a certain bell: A bell that broke great memories in my brain.' 'I am the one who passed unnoticed before you, Invisible, in a cloud of secret pain.' 'I am the one who suddenly cried, beholding The face of a certain man on the dazzling screen. They wrote me that he was dead. It was long ago. I walked in the streets for a long while, hearing nothing, And returned to see it again. And it was so.' Weave, weave, weave, you streaks of rain! I am dissolved and woven again . . . Thousands of faces rise and vanish before me. Thousands of voices weave in the rain. 'I am the one who rode beside you, blinking At a dazzle of golden lights. Tempests of music swept me: I was thinking Of the gorgeous promise of certain nights: Of the woman who suddenly smiled at me this day, Smiled in a certain delicious sidelong way, And turned, as she reached the door, To smile once more . . . Her hands are whiter than snow on midnight water. Her throat is golden and full of golden laughter, Her eyes are strange as the stealth of the moon On a night in June . . . She runs among whistling leaves; I hurry after; She dances in dreams over white-waved water; Her body is white and fragrant and cool, Magnolia petals that float on a white-starred pool . . . I have dreamed of her, dreaming for many nights Of a broken music and golden lights, Of broken webs of silver, heavily falling Between my hands and their white desire: And dark-leaved boughs, edged with a golden radiance, Dipping to screen a fire . . . I dream that I walk with her beneath high trees, But as I lean to kiss her face, She is blown aloft on wind, I catch at leaves, And run in a moonless place; And I hear a crashing of terrible rocks flung down, And shattering trees and cracking walls, And a net of intense white flame roars over the town, And someone cries; and darkness falls . . . But now she has leaned and smiled at me, My veins are afire with music, Her eyes have kissed me, my body is turned to light; I shall dream to her secret heart tonight . . . ' He rises and moves away, he says no word, He folds his evening paper and turns away; I rush through the dark with rows of lamplit faces; Fire bells peal, and some of us turn to listen, And some sit motionless in their accustomed places. Cold rain lashes the car-roof, scurries in gusts, Streams down the windows in waves and ripples of lustre; The lamps in the streets are distorted and strange. Someone takes his watch from his pocket and yawns. One peers out in the night for the place to change. Rain . . . rain . . . rain . . . we are buried in rain, It will rain forever, the swift wheels hiss through water, Pale shee