La Seine
There once was a fellow named Harris,
a comedian whose wife was called Clarice.
They performed on a stage
with old Rolf in a cage
and she took him (so clever) to Paris.
On the top of the Eiffel Tower
when the clock struck the twenty-third hour,
he was left in the rain
looking down on the Seine
but he really had needed the shower.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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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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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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Wedding Party
(Wedding Party)
Sailing down night Seine
Champagne brut and goose liver
The Eiffel Tower
Dressed in bright coloured charms
Looked like a demi monde
When the barge banked
I gave Seine the bird’s liver
Peed in the river
Studied the sliver of moon
Dreaming of ice cold lager
Paris’s night streets
September mild and at ease
Bars and bistros shut
The worthless slept in doorways
And I thought of Edit Piaf
poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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Crescent Moon Over Over The Eiffel Tower
First I think of Jesus, or not actually Jesus,
but the vapour trail from a jet, which makes
a line across the hard sky parallel with the top
of my window, which makes me think of Apollinaire
who said in a poem that Jesus is the holder
of the world high altitude record, a truly modern
aviator, and that’s how I think of Jesus,
being in Paris and all, the thing with Apollinaire.
But I’m looking at the line the vapour trail makes,
which way up in the sky would form a perfect T
with the tip of the Eiffel Tower (the tip of the
Tour Eiffel sounds better in a poem) if the Tour Eiffel
were a fair whack higher. You know what I mean:
blue symmetries of summer. And then I notice,
and here’s what the poem’s about, when my eyes
are making the imaginary T, just above the point
where my imaginary much higher Tour Eiffel
would meet the vapour trail, a crescent moon.
A crescent moon so thin and faint it’s almost not there
in the hot white Paris sky. But it is there,
and it’s above the Eiffel Tower, pardon,
la Tour Eiffel, and it’s above the vapour trail
that Jesus in a jet has made. What do I learn
from this experience? Well, in two weeks’ time,
if the weather holds, and it should, there’ll be
a fat full moon over Paris, and I’m up the hill
in Montmartre, with a view to fucking die for.
I can see three quarters of the sky, so I’m sure
that around two weeks from now, one way
or another, I’ll be seeing that fat full moon.
And this is a thought that is not at all unpleasant.
poem by Luke Davies
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Azure-te
(b. davis, d. wolf)
Gone and got the blues in paris,
Paris blues called azure-te.
How can I be blue in paris?
Easy, cause youre far away.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
Moments, springtime, eiffel tower,
Funny taxes, kids at play.
Paris without you is lonesome,
Yearning more and more each day.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
~interlude~
If you knew how much I need you,
Youd come back to me to stay.
Having you with me in paris
Really is the only way
To lose this blues,
This azure-te.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris I adorent
France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds
The quiteness of La Seine
The elaborateness of Le Tour Eiffel
Paris I adorent
As it is you I explore
We have developed rapport
En Paris ces't ma couer
En Paris ces't ma maison
One day we will meet again
One day we will meet again
Peter LeBuhn
poem by Peter LeBuhn
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French Teacher
Being in Paris for over
Thirty years, he taught
French to younsters
At sixty five, reminscing
The Eiffel tower, the squares
Of Paris, the promenades
The painters, especially
The beuties, with a smack
Of his old lips, mentioning
Them quite often,
But not mentioning
The life of love he led,
He lived ina old fort like house
Looking after his
Wife and shy daughter,
With thought of france
Where he lived so long,
For company of his oldage.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Alec Eiffel
Pioneer of aerodynamics
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
They thought he was real smart alec
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
He thought big they called it a phallic
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
They didnt know he was panoramic
Little eiffel stands in the archway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Keeping low doesnt make no sense
Sometimes people can be oh so dense
They didnt want it but he built it anyway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Little eiffel stands in the archway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Keeping low dont make sense
Keeping low doesnt make no-sense
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Little eiffel stands in the archway
Oh alexander I see you beneath
The archway of aerodynamics.
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Weepy
A weepy movie.
I have been watching a movie on TV, a love story about a girl named Sabrina. I fall for
it every time; yes, I know the technicality of filming but still believe the story. Yes,
I know it is about upper class love, the chauffeur’s daughter, and the son of the house.
They end up in Paris, where else? Nothing mundane about the film, like, can I afford
a flight ticket to Paris? Money problem kills love. Last year my wife and I took a coach
to Paris 36 hours– we are divorced now-. We spent so much time finding a place to
eat and sleep we had little time to see the sights. Saw the Eiffel tower though, you
could build a ship with all that iron. It disturbed me, the Unknown Soldier’s grave;
eternal flame. Soldiers died for business interests and the lust for power. Wish this
was the only truth, fact is young men like killing each other, they just need someone
to say it’s legal. In Paris I read poetry in defense of the Palestinians, for an audience
of Jewish people, but since they didn’t understand Norwegian they applauded.
For a moment I was a star on the firmament of vanity. I will not be back to Paris again,
less I can afford to drink a bottle of expensive wine.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Tatooed Lovers
Hey Babe
How can we forget?
Those paradise days
In the city of Paris!
Seine river cruising
Eiffel tower dinner
Shows after shows!
Le Moulin Rouge
Le Crazy Horse
Le Crazy Girls
Le Femme
Le Lido de Paris
Le Paradis Latin
The great Parisian shows!
We were happy
L'Open Hope –on
Hop-off Tour
The Louvre Museum
Mona Lisa
The 'Arc de Triomphe'
Avenue des Champs-Elysées
Place de la Concorde
Sacre Coeur Basilica
Notre Dame Cathedral
Centre Georges Pompidou!
Going to La Defense
Versailles
Having Champagne
At Champagne
Hi Babe
How can we forget Paris?
The tattoo lovers we knew
They lived and danced
Above the studio
Where we lived! .....
poem by Kp. Shashidharan
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Parisian April
Rain drips icicily on Paris's April quay
As blossoms of cherry stir the misty air
The left bank ponders over cafe' au lait
While the whiff of tobacco releases the day's care
The Romantic, with the lonely, shares the night
In the distance the Tower of Eiffel stands tall
Overlooking the mortal city of inner light
And Notre dame's divinity cushions an atheist's fall
An artist's brush can impress the memory
A feeling bottled is a moment cherished
In a stolen kiss to wedding ceremony
That falls into a love so sadly blemished
Here for an eternity I am so lost
A solitary traveler in a dreamer's maze
The Seine riffles through years of human cost
Where Voltaire cursed revolution's bloody craze
poem by C.A. Morrow
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It seems to me that it had no other rationale than to show that we are not simply the country of entertainers, but also that of engineers and builders called from across the world to build bridges, viaducts, stations and major monuments of modern industry, the Eiffel Tower deserves to be treated with consideration.
quote by Gustave Eiffel
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I'll Return
I am dreaming to return from war
During which I was born and brought up
At impoverished ruined soil
Under rain of tears drop-out
But the tyrant’s not buried yet
That declared war on this soil
And there seems to be no plug or end
To this war.
I am not going to presage
I am aware I’ll return to stage
Maybe in some another age
Not at fool’s cage but land of genius
Being a battle casualty
I’ll rise from grave and will sing
At very first day that we’ll celebrate
Returning from the war.
But when battle sometimes slackens off
At clock-hour halt, but not in line
About peace and about love
I compose, sing and write
The opponents heave sigh of relief
And my friends just say “It’ a jolt…”
All of them misjudge me by their own belief
It’s clock-hour halt
Just halt.
Tomorrow I’ll show my rampage
I am aware I’ll return to stage
Maybe in some another age
Not at fool’s cage but land of genius
Being a battle casualty
I’ll rise from grave and will sing
At very first day that we’ll celebrate
Returning from the war.
I’ll return from the war
I’ll return
song, lyrics by Igor Talkov, translated by Victor Sklyarov
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France is for Lovers
It's Paris in the Springtime
as the fluers de lis flower
Singing hymns to the fresh new floral scents.
Paintings hang in the monuments
to great men and their moments
showing oils and acrylics trapping hymns.
And that architectural marvel that is called the Eiffel Tower
towers over sights and smells and sounds of spring.
It is here that you lay your head to rest now.
It is here that you bring other heads to rest.
It is in Paris in the Springtime that is for lovers.
And if I could afford the plane ticket over
you would have to see me regardless
of all the child support you try to make me pay.
poem by John W. McEwers
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Aunt Clarice
I have many aunts.
But not one named Clarice.
And I doubt very seriously,
If any of my aunts would change theirs...
To grant me my wish!
Unless...
One knew I've already written a poem,
Entitled...
My Aunt Clarice.
And they thought it to be beautifully written.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Les Fleurs des Mots: Le Genre de Place
Femmes sont Seine,
Universite,
Paris, Place,
Cathedral,
Avenue et Rue;
Aussi Tour Eiffel.
Hommes sont Centre,
Restaurant,
Musee, Metro et Hotel.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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I dreamt that I woke up in France today
I dreamt that I woke up
in France today
and that every word
that I spoke in Afrikaans, English,
Dutch or the little German
that I knew
fell incomprehensible on unenquiring ears
just as if I wasn’t there at all
and the people were living
as if only the French
were welcome in France
I walked through the streets
at the Latin Quarter
and It was the country of liberty
and in the street foreign kids
erected barriers
and were burning cars
and wrecking shops
and attacked the passers by
and there were police everywhere.
The city of Paris was beautiful
and people where smiling
and it was very romantic,
but I wasn’t a part
of the city and the world
around me
and drifted in and out of it
as dreams go.
I said a prayer
at the Notre Dame cathedral
and looked in awe at the flying buttresses
and rose windows
and heard the Seine flow past.
I walked along the pont des artes
across the river Seine
and in the background
the lights on the Ilse de la citè
burnt bright and reflected
on the dark waters of the Seine.
Bright lights flared
from the Arc de Triomphe
and the Eiffel tower was all lit up
where it was like
A upside down
V-sign against the sky
and suddenly I felt free
from all the things
that bounded me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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You show up in Paris, and on the drive from the airport to the hotel you're like, 'This is so cool! I want to see something! I want to go to the Eiffel Tower!' And then you leave the next morning. You think, Oh, I didn't get to do anything. I tell people: I've been just about everywhere, but I've seen nothing.
quote by Taylor Lautner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Country Girl In Paris
This song appears on four albums, and was first released on the higher ground album, and has also been released on the a portrait, the gift you are and the john denver collection - annies song
Ms.
A country girl in paris, moonlight on the seine
Memories of tennessee, nashville in the rain
Its such a contradiction, a heart thats filled with pain
A country girl in paris, dreamin nashville in the rain
She walks along the boulevard, champs alysee
Thinks about a country boy three thousand miles away
Pride is such a hard thing, its such a price to pay
To be all alone in paris with true love so far away
Up upon mont martre when she stops to rest awhile
All the artists look at her and they long to paint her smile
For even in her sorrow theres something in her eyes
That makes the young men jealous, makes the old men sigh
They say the loss of innocence is always linked to pain
For once the heart is opened nothing ever is the same
And so the evening lends itself to lovers and romance
The way to heal a broken heart is to give true love
One more chance
A country girl in paris, moonlight on the seine
Memories of tennessee, nashville in the rain
Its such a contradiction, a heart thats filled with pain
A country girl in paris, dreamin nashville in the rain
A country girl in paris, longing for nashville in the rain
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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