Cafe Paris
Somewhere in Paris
A quaint café.
Quiet and soundless
A starry night
The city it sleeps
The Frenchmen await
A small revolution
Tonight
Somewhere in Paris
A quaint cafe
Waiting for change
Dawn of a day.
poem by Arthur Q. Kromwelle
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Cafe Prague.
Cream coloured coffee
And hot buttered toast
August sunshine
A packet of cigarettes
Talks on love and life
Friends and strangers all together
Days of summer
Seated on outside chairs
Tears and laughter
Mixed in the air
Of the perfect day just us and them
Cafe pavements
The world at view
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Used coffee cups
And ashtrays too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Trendy young girls
And the wannabe author
Auster, Adams and Mr. Salinger
Days of dreaming
The perfect film
In view for all to see
Hello, hello
So good to see you
Was it twelve?
Or maybe it was two
I’ll sit and wait
And think of you
Cafe pavements
For me and you
Pairs, Rome and cafe Prague
Dirty spoons and knives
And glasses too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Teacups and Earl grey
And ice cream sundaes
Black and white life
In full technicolour
Light my cigarette
And I’ll listen all day
Sunshine days
Storm clouds - away
The table over there
Just a smiling man
For today - all alone
Waiting his time
Cafe pavements
The world today
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Beautiful Ladies
And business gents
Paris, Rome and Cafe Prague
Student cameras
And picture painting
Hollywood lifestyle
In the common street
Brando, Dean and Al Pacino
Next to you and me
See you later
Maybe tomorrow
Give me a ring
And we’ll make a date
I’ll sit and think
And wait for you
Cafe pavements
For meetings and lunch
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Perfect tables
And used up chairs
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
poem by Patrick Sant
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Paris, Inverno de 1994
Paris nessa noite tinha
a luz distribuída pelas gotas da chuva.
Sartre e Beauvoir não estavam lá.
No Café de Flore, três ou quatro
colheres de açúcar afogavam
o amargo do café. Beberam-no
primeiro os meus olhos como um ritual, os lábios
depois, na minha língua
mais tarde escreveria um poema previsível.
Outras vezes, Paris era um bocado
de ar azulado.
poem by João Tomaz Parreira
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He Said...
He said the air was better in Paris.
In Paris we could breathe
Like we never could
Here in the little home I had built.
So...
I left with him
For the better air
And wine and cheese and cafes and Paris
And because I too wanted to breathe.
Yesterday he left
For Spain and Spanish things
And the little Flamenco dancer
From the Café...
Outside my window
The rain pounds mercilessly on the roses he planted for me...
Such lovely things,
So sad to see them die.
poem by Vaun Moore
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London To Paris
Paris, the city of gaiety
Paris, oh city so bright
Paris, with girls continental
We are crossing the Channel tonight.
Euros we will spend by 'the plenty'
As soon as we step on your shore.
We love pretty girls continental
The shine in their eyes we adore.
We'll reach the top of the 'Eiffel'
Admiring the wonderful sight,
And we'll walk along the Champs Elysees
As we visit the City of Culture tonight.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Summers In Paris
each summer i go to paris to write
and each trip i make you greet me
as though you haven't seen me in ages
then you tell me i get more beautiful
with each passing year
but i'm just getting older
and it's really men not women that
get better looking with age
i pose for you by day watching your brush
as it whisks over canvas
nights are spent in quaint restaurants
where we eat only the finest foods
chasing it down with the best of the wines
later in the night i try to write
but you won't let me
you're too busy teasing and tickling me
it's impossible to concentrate
you never cease tempting me into your bed
you tell me i will be famous
once your masterpiece is complete
then when i come to paris
everyone i pass by in the city will know me
poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
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Paris, Please Accept Me, As A Human Refugee
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
the patience, eating the happiness
the pain, eating the patience
and the pain, eating the pain
I AM SICK, paris
treat me, sister
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
exile, on my papers
restrained, ..
in my lines
so free me, paris
treat me, paris
I BELONG TO YOU, ..
sister
my home, the colours of MONET
my room, is a water flower
my air..
is the scent of FRANCE
and my refuge..
is a place by RENOIR shrine
so take me paris..
as your..
renoirian..
REFUGEE.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
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Postcards From Paris
postcards from paris
Dear friend of my mine
The weather's fine
Today i saw some ruins of the roman world's decline
And i climbed all those spanish steps
You've heard of them no doubt
But rome has lost its glory, i don't know what its about.
I wish you were here
When the shadows fall and all the rushing traffic's still
I wish you were here
When the bells are ringing on the seven hills
I make my way to a small cafe, i wonder what you did today
Wish you were here
Dear one at home.
I just flew in from rome,
Paris is a postcard all decked out in colour chrome
And so i climbed the eiffel tower
And prayed at notre dame
But i just can't find the romance
And i wonder why i came
Wish you were here
On the champs elysees lovers walk hand in hand
Wish you were here
They take one look at me and seem to understand
This city of light is a lovely site, the first bright star i see tonight
Wish you were here
Now i write this from the plane
Drinking cheap champagne
And wondering why two people got so far apart
Wish you were here, here in london where the rain the pouring down
Wish you were here
On this airplane headed back to new york town
I'll never leave you alone again. i'm coming home but until then
Wish you were here
I wish you were here
Wish you were here.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris with Her
What would it be like to go to Paris
on a whim with a woman
who is as mystical and magical
as the city of Love
What would it be like to sit at a Café
drinking our wine eating our cheese on
Avenue des Champs-Elysées but seeing only her
What would it be like to hold her hand
strolling over Pont Neuf to the Eiffel Tower
her hair swirling in the wind, d'issay Miyake
clouding my mind
What would it be like to hide in a corner
of Notre Dame Cathedral
and kiss her passionately her eyes holding mine
what would it be like to make love under a Paris moon
on the green grass of Champ de Mars with the woman I love
It would be Heaven.
poem by Barry Renee
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Sad Cafe
Out in the shiny night the rain
was softly falling
The tracks that ran down the boulevard had
all been washed away
Out of the silver light the past came softly calling
And I remember the times we spent
inside the Sad Cafe
Oh it seemed like a holy place
protected by amazing grace
And we would sing right out loud the
things we could not say
We thought we could change this world
with words like "love" and "freedom"
We were part of the lonely crowd
Inside the Sad Cafe
Oh, expecting to fly,
we would meet on that shore in the
sweet by and by
Some of their dreams came true,
some just passed away
And some of the stayed behind
inside the Sad Cafe.
The clouds rolled in and hid that shore
Now that Glory Train, it don't stop here no more
Now I look at the years gone by,
and wonder at the powers that be.
I don't know why fortune smiles on some
and let's the rest go free
Maybe the time has drawn the faces I recall
But things in this life change very slowly,
if they ever change at all
There's no use in asking why,
it just turned out that way
So meet me at midnight baby
inside the Sad Cafe.
Why don't you meet me at midnight baby,
inside the Sad Cafe
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Paris With You
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.
poem by James Fenton
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The Sad Cafe
Out in the shiny night, the rain
Was softly falling
The tracks that ran down the boulevard had
All been washed away
Out of the silver light, the past came softly calling
And I remember the times we spent
Inside the sad cafe
Oh, it seemed like a holy place,
Protected by amazing grace
And we would sing right out loud, the
Things we could not say
We thought we could change this world
With words like love and freedom
We were part of the lonely crowd
Inside the sad cafe
Oh, expecting to fly,
We would meet on that beautiful shore in the
Sweet by and by
Some of their dreams came true,
Some just passed away
And some of the stayed behind
Inside the sad cafe.
The clouds rolled in and hid that shore
Now that glory train, it dont stop here no more
Now I look at the years gone by,
And wonder at the powers that be.
I dont know why fortune smiles on some
And lets the rest go free
Maybe the time has drawn the faces I recall
But things in this life change very slowly,
If they ever change at all
Theres no use in asking why,
It just turned out that way
So meet me at midnight baby
Inside the sad cafe.
Why dont you meet me at midnight baby,
Inside the sad cafe.
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies,
Whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize that...
I love paris in the spring time
I love paris in the fall
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles
I
Love paris in the winter when it drizzles
I love paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love
Paris, why oh why do I love paris
Because my love is here
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Nat king cole
(cole porter)
(can-can)
Every time I look down on this timeless town
Whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize:
I love paris in the springtime.
I love paris in the fall.
I love paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love paris every moment,
Every moment of the year.
I love paris, why, oh why do I love paris?
Because my love is near.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ill Be Seeing You
Sammy fain / irving kahal
Ill be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day and through
In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children carrousel
The chestnut trees
The wishing well
Ill be seeing you
In every lovely summers day
In everything thats light and gay
Ill always think of you that way
Ill find in the morning sun
And when the night is new
Ill be looking at the moon
But Ill be seeing you
Ill be seeing you
In every lovely summers day
In everything thats light and gay
Ill always think of you that way
Ill find in the morning sun
And when the night is new
Ill be looking at the moon
But Ill be seeing you
Sometimes billie sung the next verse
------------------------------------
Cathedral bells were tolling
As our love sang on.
Was it the spell of paris,
Or just the april dawn?
Who knows if we will meet again,
Love with morning chiming sweet again
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angeliou
Angeliou oh angeliou
Oh oh angeliou angeliou
Oh angeliou oh angeliou oh my angeliou
In the month of may
In the month of may
In the city of paris
In the month of may
In the month of may
In the city of paris
And I heard the bells ringing, and I heard the bells ringing
In the month of may
In the city of paris and I called out your name
In the month of may
In the city of paris
In the month of may
In the city of paris
Oh oh angeliou oh angeliou oh oh angeliou oh my angeliou
Walkin on a city street who would think you could ever be touched
By a total stranger, not me
But when you came up to me that day and I listened to your story
It reminded me so much of myself
It wasnt what you said but the way it felt to me
About a search and a journey just like mine
Will you be my baby
Will you be my baby now
Will you be my baby
Will you be my baby now
Angeliou oh angeliou
Angeliou oh angeliou
Yes I will yes I will yes I will
After she told all these things to me I said I got a story too
It goes something like this
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris in Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Paris Song
Paris so beautiful at night
And during the day is beautiful also
The Eiffel Tower is located in the center of Paris
But all the flowers in Paris are blooming in the parks
And at la seine
Yes spring is heret in Paris
And I am enjoying the spring
But the flowers in the parks here in Paris are beautiful
Because they are a show of colors
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Jet Set
By a fountain back in rome i fell in love with you
In a small cafe in athens you said you loved me too
And it was april in paris when i first held you close to me
Rome, georgia, athens, texas and paris, tennessee
No, we're not the jet set
We're the old chevro-let set
There's no riviera
In festus, missouri
And you won't find onassis
In mullinville, kansas
No, we're not the jet set
We're the old chevro-let set
But ain't we got love
No, we're not the jet set
We're the old chevro-let set
Our steak and martinis
Is draft beer with weenies
Our bach and tchaikovsky
Is haggard and husky
No, we're not the jet set
We're the old chevro-let set
But ain't we got love
No, we're not the jet set
We're the old chevro-let set
The prine and dement set
Ain't the flaming suzette set
Our bach and tchaikovsky
Is haggard and husky
We're the old chevro-let set
But ain't we got love
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going To Paris
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
As the storm gathers slowly
We eat fishheads and snails
The mate jumps up, throws down a line
To a man overboard for the ninetieth time
And then he says with a wink
Sometimes I think
Ive been doing this forever!
We are going to paris
In a ship called the ? ?
There are signs in the sky at night
That the captain says hes seen
I keep books under my pillow
And read them before I sleep
Strange places I go to,
Strange companies I keep
We are going to paris
We are one and thirty strong
I can feel it in the air
Well be there before long
The wind has come
Like a man insane, insane
We are going to paris
It rains and it rains
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dans Paris
The beauty of a city
the breathtaking
awe-inspiring
captivating
somewhat magical Parisian charm
Paris captures the hearts of those who step into its glossy boutiques and cafes
Just as a beautiful and sensuous seductress ensnares her defenceless prey
The star-studded Eiffel Tower in all its glory
shining like a beacon of fire across the Parisian night sky
Taking a walk along the breezy boulevard of the Champs Elysees
The romantic artists painting their subjects on Montmartres's quaint streets and alleys
The sun sets over the Seine and the City of Lights comes to life
poem by Salwa Nuseiba
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