Adieu, slow journeys

Never again will we hear stamping on the road
The lively foot of a horse on the burning cobbles;
Adieu, slow journeys, distant noises that one hears,
The laughter of the passersby, the slow turning of the wheel,
The unexpected bend on varying slopes,
A friend met, the hours forgotten,
The hope of arriving late in the wild place.

Distance and time are defeated. Science
Traces around the earth a sad and straight road.
The world is reduced by our experience
And the equator is only too narrow a ring.
Chance is no longer. Everyone will slip along his line
Immobile in the single place which departure allots him,
Immersed in a silent and cold calculation.

A. de Vigny