Let this time away,
Antwerp! - And in a sea of blood
You remembered me deeply…
River mist crawls from the upper
broad, as the Neva, ESCO.
And over the calm river
In the fog of warmth and deep,
As the eyes of a young Flemish,
No account mast, shipyards, dokam,
And smells tackles and resin.
Disturbing the surface of the water,
In a widely creeping smoke
Already the anchor is ready to give
Heavy two-masted steamer:
Him to keep the course of the Congo…
And you - you look into the mists of centuries
In a quiet town museum:
There reigns Quentin Massis;
There her dress Salome
Flowers of gold intertwined…
But still - pretending, all - deception:
Look at the top… In a piece of blue,
Flashed through the fog,
See you harbinger of the storm -
whirling airplane.
5 October 1914
