On an Island in the City
Eight roads are meeting here,
Yet almost no-one will come.
One or two dare to pass near,
But the masses, swelling the streets,
Have no desire to be different.
From this vantage point I feel,
The heart of Belo Horizonte beating.
The will to live is strongest,
Whilst these ancient stones reside,
Calmly attending to her soul.
Now and then the traffic stops,
And thunderous horns cachophonise,
A beat of angry energy screams.
And lost is now, the tranquil flow,
Beneath a sea of hurrying feet.
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