Here you will find thePoemCity Nightfallof poet Kenneth Slessor
SMOKE upon smoke; over the stone lips Of chimneys bleeding, a darker fume descends. Night, the old nun, in voiceless pity bends To kiss corruption, so fabulous her pity. All drowns in night. Even the lazar drowns In earth at last, and rises up afresh, Married to dust with an Infanta's flesh? So night, like earth, receives this poisoned city, Charging its air with beauty, coasting its lanterns With mains of darkness, till the leprous clay Dissolves, and pavements drift away, And there is only the quiet noise of planets feeding. And those who chafe here, limed on the iron twigs, No greater seem than sparrows, all their cries, Their clockwork and their merchandise, Frolic of painted dolls. I pass unheeding.
