A restless river runs close by the copse
Inside the forest, ruins steadily decay
A stage that once sung, is overcome in silence
No more a theatre, but not yet just stone
The water continues with a mind of its own.
Times fallen soldiers appear on the way,
Trapped by memory, they seek to get home,
Lost ancient cities appears in their midst
But it\'s hopeless to return a centurion to Rome.
The pageant proceeds with rhythmic destruction:
Bright shimmering cities, they all no longer exist,
Those who lived among them now scattered to dust.
The forest advances with an imperceptible burst
While white cloud above drifts on.