I see all Paris draped in molten gold
Each window but an ember, young and bright
A dazzling, amber flame, brazen and bold
Than e’en cannot be swallowed by the night
Coarse are the stars, like gems that loom above
The clouds that sew the web of the blue sky
And in your eyes, I see the flame of love
The everlasting flame that shan’t e’er die
A light, soft snow, like gentle feathers soar
And land upon each dome, each roof, each street
The night is cold, the stars that glisten o’er
Within the oceans of your soft eyes, meet
And I’m entranced by your sweet, tender face
Your smile, kind and warm, and ne’er enough
Of words could say, how perfect is this place-
Paris-the city of wealth-and of love
Copyright Gleb Zavlanov 2013