"What is Lisbon like?"
"It's like the sea."
What a light
Waiting for today's twilight
Descend this slope endlessly
This vast, inclined plane
A globe would have roamed freely
This long slope, along the green park
To the graying place at the end
The place by the turbulent river
From there someone
Departed to cross the Atlantic
A segment of a city
Engenders another city
This planned parthenogenesis
Endangering, angel-like
Ah, but what a light
For this inclined world
For this mind that will never again
Know a lift.
