Sta.sh
Smelling the strong aroma of coffee passing by a bar's terrace on a beautiful spring morning,
The heady scent of roses escaped from a closed flower shop in the muggy heat of a summer night,
A walk in a park, under the golden brown trees, cut short by the scattering rain of fall,
The rant of a roast chestnuts' seller in the cold of a never-ending winter,
Paris, city of changing faces.
Thousands of passers-by, hundreds of furtive shadows trampled the uneven pavement. The centuries, people come and go but Paris stays snuggled into the arms of the Seine.
Wars, revolutions have shaken its walls, have weaken its foundations. Ideologies follow one after the other, but Paris stays proud and prosperous.
Paris, city inhabited by mystery.
This freewheeling couple who moves slowly along the booksellers' quay, are they aware that the city changes?
That when their last days will arrive, they will look for this bar, for this flower shop, in vain?
That this bench in the park or this subway train will have forgotten their whispers?
That others will raise their delighted eyes to our flagship, to our iron lady, in their turn believing that eternity is at their fingertips?
Paris, immutable capital.
| Deviant Login | Shop |
 | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
Relief 
<3
