Weilawei - Romowe Rikoito

Let us go then, you and I

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherised upon a table

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap

And seeing that it was a soft October night

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep