Three forts adorned with arms linked by a rosary <br />Where fervour was captured in stone and in pageant, <br />Were a jail roofed with slate and with epic legend <br />That in twisted soaring flared up - a cemetery <br /> <br />If it were not prolonged by a new reasoning <br />For gold waits in the mud and is to sprout ready <br />And song and marble must mingle their ecstasy <br />To make meads of knowledge thrive for the haymaking. <br /> <br />This is a cry-scanned arch uniting high and low, <br />Where intent demons strive to bend the vaulted bow <br />To be better mirrored, torn to shreds, in the silt, <br /> <br />And leaning o'er the stream where lies this dead shadow, <br />I am lost, wondering if I am gate or bridge <br />And leave my reflection for the river to shift.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prague-charles-bridge/
