Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat.
Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar.
We have been here for ever: even yet A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more.
The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet With a night's foetor. There are two hours more;
Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours yet.
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore. . . .
One of them wakes, and spits, and sleeps again.
The darkness shivers. A wan light through the
Strikes on our faces, drawn and white. Somewhere A new day sprawls; and, inside, the foul
Is chill, and damp, and fouler than before. . . .
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore.
From the train between Bologna and Milan, second class.
