Nocturnes: At Le Lac De Geneve, June 17, 1816

[to Santosh, Lady SeaStar, my friend, who talked this over with me]

 

"By the waters of Leman I sat down . . ."

T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land

 

I think a walk beside a lake can be

a provenance of many inspirations.

Despite having the best accomodations,

the villa, sometimes I just have to flee

outside, and far from indoor luxury.

Lord Byron, always skeptical, may scoff

at my late dream as subject for a short

tale.  But, today, I can, truly, report

that I have thought of something now to write---

however brief, its worth however slight.

Sand on this shore has been ground very fine;

warmed in the sun, and such a sparkling white

color.  This afternoon is wholly mine:

at last, these English shoes, so tight, come off . . .

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