Arrive at night. You'll find succor in this fluorescent room,
my city. View its miniatured decor from a high terrace
necklaced to the eighteenth floor: you'll see below how
furnished avenues, neon corridors, confine the lurching darkness
to one lampless park. Empty moors and frozen grass
lie far beyond this bright pavillion's door; here, the lampless
sea depths meet our human, wide, full-candled shore; here,
the incandescent landscape has no curfew.
All these cities, luminous, implore anew: relight
the unpartitioned sky tonight. Compell the warring, blind, inhuman
fears to cower and retreat again beyond La Belle Aurore.