Delaunay’s “La Tour Eiffel”

for John Berger

How it excites the sky itself,
Sticking up there to the amazement
Of all beholders. The clouds tumble
Out of the heavenly gearbox cheering
Hup-la! O Paris, nous t'aimons!
All that is lacking is a tricolor
Whipped to smithereens
By the prop of a biplane. Soon, I believe,
We will live all our lives in the air—
Circling the crystal earth
Like wireless messages, a throng
Of aerial mariners!
Fast as eyes can see, kinetic images
Will speed through the conquered blue,
And skilled mechanics coming home at dawn
From their buzzing aerodromes will see
You, glorious Tower, erect
On their bedrooms' electric walls,
Will fall asleep in beds
As modern as tomorrow morning to dream
Of riveters riveting rivets
In I-beams infinitely long. And this,
And only this, will be the future's song.