The gondolier pushes the boat
\nthrough streets of water.
\nHow quiet without the traffic
\nof a crowd!
\nMusk and mildew
\ncover the corpus of the buildings.
\nGreen algae forms lines
\nof indecipherable words.
\nWindows are open,
\nand people live in this stillness.
\nThe passing of boats,
\nred cotton hanging on a line,
\ngeraniums in boxes,
\nand a pale, occasional face
\nlooking down on us,
\nlike dreams that hover in their rooms.<\/p>\n
There is nothing that is firm,
\nonly sensual humidity,
\nan occasional voice,
\nshadows and bridges.
\nThe rooms of the buildings
\nare filled with a limpid light.
\nA unique charm and pestilence.
\nIt is a primeval place
\nseen from the boat.
\nUntouched walls of verdant leaves,
\ndroplets of gold,
\nVenice passing into an ageless moment,
\nas if life has stopped,
\nhovers in the rafters,
\nsmells of time bottled up,
\nsuspended forever
\ninside the reflections of its canals.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The gondolier pushes the boat through streets of water. How quiet without the traffic of a crowd! Musk and mildew cover the corpus of the…<\/p>\n