majestic and calm
his granite gaze
ever dreaming down
on his lost race

his cities are crowded
and shabbily built
their waters run dead
the rich sport silk

a solitary monk
sounds the alarm
by the golden arches
where lives push on

i drop a few coins
into the magic box
whisper a few lines
while others talk

they took the bus
all the way up
the infernal heat
somebody's cut

i leave them to it
find my way down
a year has passed
another come round

in a bamboo bower
bordered with stone
it's hard to believe
i'm back here at home

i close my eyes
to wait for the sun
to touch my fate
like the quiet one