Ekinerkan

“The noise of the bars, the grit of the sidewalks,
The decaying plane trees shedding leaves in the dark,
The omnibus a hurricane of rattling iron and mud,
That screeches, badly aligned on its wheels,
And slowly rolls its green and yellow eyes,
Workers going to their club, smoking clay pipes
Under the noses of the police officers,
Dripping roofs, sweating walls, slippery pavement,
Cracked asphalt, streams filling the gutter,
That’s my road—with heaven at the end.”
-- Paul Verlaine