City Nightfall

By 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.