A Map of the City
I stand upon a hill and see
A luminous country under me,
Through which at two the drunk sailor must weave;
The transient's pause, the sailor's leave.
I notice, looking down the hill,
Arms braced upon a window sill;
And on the web of fire escapes
Move the potential, the grey shapes.
I hold the city here, complete;
And every shape defined by light
Is mine, or corresponds to mine,
Some flickering or some steady shine.
This map is ground of my delight.
Between the limits, night by night,
I watch a malady's advance,
I recognize my love of chance.
By the recurrent lights I see
The crowded, broken, and unfinished!
I would not have the risk diminished.
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Comments about this poem (A Map of the City by Thom Gunn )
(30 June 1911 – 14 August 2004)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(12 May 1828 – 9 April 1882)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
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