Why did I deserve to see
All the towns and cities and major roads of Italy
Stretched out miles and miles beneath me
Sparkling like the jewellery of a goddess
Against a black velvet night?
And could a poor wage slave scholar
Have ever crossed the mountains and seas
To add pictures to his albums and memories
Of the sun rising from the sea at Skyros
The gardens of Granada,
the Oracle at Delphi,
or the elephants of Sri Lanka.
It has been done once,
But it shouldn’t be done again
To jet a fat fool in an aeroplane
From here to there and back
If the cost of spending a Christmas in Spain
Is drowning and deserts and dying
So fly on fartbags, full of gas
Or travel by sitting on your arse
On the whizzing worm of a high speed train
So walk if you can
And bike if you like
But never fly on a jet again.