Blast from the past

[yakalskovich]

Pavement Stones
(ca. 1986)

This is the time when pavement stones
Won't be ripped out but put in.-

As I wander down the street,
My eyes on the pavement, my mind deep in thought,
The grey stones in swinging semicircles
Entice my foot to stride on.

Circling, dancing their silent pattern
They draw my glance away, ahead;
Their frozen rhythm fascinates me, and inspires
My mind, my foot, my heart.

When afterwards dead concrete begins again
I look back at the cobblestones, alive underfoot,
These stones, mild in the sun, darkened with rain or
Shining like jewels with frost.

There once was a man who paved this street.
Hours and hours he sweated over his labour,
Arranged the heavy stones as he though best,
Then looked back on his work with pride.


I was reminded of this just now as I was watching the building site orcs pave what used to be our first back courtyard with cobblestone paths.-

Comments

[essayel.livejournal.com]

What a brilliant poem!!

[yakalskovich]

Thank you!!

It was fun watching them actually do what I'd imagined so long ago. There's a little circle in the middle of which they're probably going to put some feature; the lines swirl outward from there.

Oh, wait, a picture says more than thousand words (I am Andras's mun after all), and I have a new phone that makes things easy: