Lesson 4: a little poem about Venice to ponder

Everyone watched the boatman
 Tall and lithe and lean
 His music made the city
 Into everybody’s dream
But the stories true worth knowing
 Were not so plain to see
 Behind every glorious window
 Was a busy little bee
The women, the servants
 At work in the houses
 The rich take the glory
 No-one sees the mouses
Venice, most beautiful
 Venice, most serene
 Venice, most terrible
 Built on broken dreams
Oh the glory of her generals
 (and the pain of those who lost)
 Oh the wisdom of her merchants
 (it was others who paid the cost)
Every glorious window
 Every impeccably crafted stone
 Cost the blood of other people
 It’s not beauty alone
And now there is Venice, most beautiful.
 Venice, most serene.
 Venice, so terrible, yet…
 In everybody’s dreams.
There is no Venice but Venice.
photo by Grant Zelych, copyright 2015

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