Let us go (you and I)
there;
to the uncertain drifting of the snow
where the buildings make canyons
tall and steep
where the rain may fall
but no grass will be there to greet it.

Let us go to that city
of wet warm streets
where oil runs a finger
up the river's spine
and smoke strokes the buildings softly,
gently, with the back of its hand.

Let us got to that place
where nothing is promised
but everything is possible
a dark, bent head whispers a secret
in the murky corner of the square.
The wind sighs "Fortune, fortune."
kisses your forehead and takes its leave.

Let us go there
to the city full of cathedrals
smog-stained synagogues, domed mosques
pointed temples and cluttered graveyards
and old men philosphizing on street corners
with fire in their eyes and dirt in their hair.

Let us go there, you and I
to this hallowed place
at once salvation and destruction
deception and absolute truth.
We shall cross the bridge, you and I
over the river choked with ice
but here is where I turn around;
I must leave you at the gate.

inspired by The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot (1920)