The slippery walks

Le bruit des cabarets, la fange du trottoir,

Les platanes déchus s’effeuillant dans l’air noir,

L’omnibus, ouragan de ferraille et de boues,

Qui grince, mal assis entre ses quatre roues,

Et roule ses yeux verts et rouges lentement,

Les ouvriers allant au club, tout en fumant

Leur brûle-gueule au nez des agents de police,

Toits qui dégouttent, murs suintants, pavé qui glisse,

Bitume défoncé, ruisseaux comblant l’égout,

Voilà ma route – avec le paradis au bout.

*

The noise of taverns and the black mud of the sidewalks, 

The torn leaves fluttering in the wintry air; 

The omnibus, a storm of rusty iron and mud 

That creaks, unpleasantly, on its four grinding wheels 

And rolls its slowly burning eyes of green and red; 

The workmen going to their clubs and smoking each 

His short clay pipe 'neath the very nose of the police; 

The dripping roofs, the sweating walls, the slippery walks, 

The asphalt bulging and the filthy, muddy rills;

Such is my route —and at the end is paradise. 

(Paul Verlaine, La bonne chanson, XVI)

Is it the end of the aimless wandering around Paris and sitting in its numerous parks on the grass (crowded with people in their swimming suits as if the neatly arranged aristocratic parks were mediterranean beaches in the time of July) reading poetry for some time? When university courses start it's always like a brick has just fallen on your head as if it's trying to say: hello, there, summertime has gone away and so has all your previous knowledge!   

However, despite all the studying that is about to hit me soon, when in Paris... it is completely impossible not to wander about anymore. Not to be fascinated and disgusted by the city life. By the immense crowds. Beautiful buildings. Numerous cafés. Art galleries and museums. Concerts. Whatever you want. You feel it with all the senses. And how can you not - it's the same place so many artists lived and created, it's full of histories, life stories, art works, wars and poems. The city screams with its past and its present, you have to be blind, deaf and completely senseless not to feel it. Maybe the excitement will pass with time and the wild scenery will became the uninteresting everyday life. Perhaps?