Rhythme de trains,
Rimes de la vie.
Le paysage défile
De l’autre côté des vitres.
Dedans, ma vie reste
En suspens -
Le temps d’un voyage
Clouds across the plains,
Scudding to the rhythm
Of the train.
Outside life is submissive
To the inside’s quiet.
Did I write the above during my train ride to Toulouse this spring, or
during my train ride to
Argelès-sur-Mer at the end of the summer, or even on the train ride to
Paris at the beginning
Of the summer ? I don’t remember, but every trip has similar elements.
Today’s no different (except perhaps in scenery and the architecture of
the buildings) from yesterdays,
not tomorrows.
Never met a one that I didn’t enjoy and every discovery (even to places
visited in the past) is a slightly
Different voyage.
