Itâs night, freezing much outside.
Youâre talking about ParisâŠ
Let me, please, sit closer to you
And Iâll move nearer to Paris.
Youâre talking about Montmartre
And lo I am there by now.
I hear from all sides: âOh, belle mademoiselle!â
Iâm blushing as under the crown.
âJe suis fascinĂ© par vous!â âOh, merci!â
âQuelle beautĂ©!â My feet are going numb.
âAsseyer-vous, s'il vous plait. Je veux peindre de vous!â
I canât say no, and I sit down.
'Je marche sur MontmartreâŠ'
And though I only dream it,
Beautiful Paris, that I see in your eyes,
Is enough for me to fall in love with it.
A few days ago, I met an old friend who had just returned from Paris. We talked all night. He was speaking, and I was listening with my eyes wide open! I decided to capture this moment of my life in this poem.
Thank you very much for reading! đ