ΦΙΛΙΠ ΛΑΡΚΙΝ!

PHILIP LARKIN

TRIPLE TIME

This empty street, this sky to blandness scoured,
This aire, a little indistict with autumm
Like a reflection, constitute the present -
A time tradicionally soured,
A time unrecommended by event.

But equally they make up something else:
This is the future furthest childhood saw
Between long houses, under travelling skies,
Heard in contendig bells -
An air lambent with adult enterprise.

And on another day will be the past,
A valley cropped by fan neglected chances
That we insensately forbore to fleece.
On this we blame out last
Threadbare perspectives, seasonal decrease.