Trains

Mother, I sit by my window for hours on end

And watch the long trains rumble past.

Some are dark and journey tediously,

No doors, No window, No shining lamps.

slowly they move: like huge elephants

That move like shadows in the shadowy dark.

Sometimes a train comes flashing past

With many windows lit by many lamps 

That dance and whirl with movement swift.

Shrill whistles that above the din

Of the rhythmic beat of wheels revolving fast.

On hot afternoons you go to sleep

And with dizzy heat swoons all the world,

Even the crows doze and forget to caw,

The dogs lie in the shade with a hanging tongue.

I watch for hours and still tireless trains 

March on and on along their iron road.

Sometimes at night in my sleep, I hear 

The low distant rumble of the train.

I rub my eyes and sit upon my bed 

And beneath the light of the flickering moon

Moves the long shadowy outline far away

Like a huge serpent crawling through the night.

Where do all these trains go day and night?

You say they bore their way through hills,

They roar over bridges across mighty streams, 

They crash through forests and vast plains,

But at the end of their restless journeyings -

Where do they go and finally rest?