A Lullaby to Spring (Avril à Paris)
O’ my muse has lifeless eyes and drunken dreams in the Spring
Scarcely surviving cold winters and dark nights, in lost chambers she sings
A sweet lullaby with blissful melodies,
The scent of perfume and pipe smoke in her memories,
Marvelous flashbacks to love
In the City of Lights was Heavenly.
With shades of baby blues and bright yellows,
The camera flash and warm “hellos,”
With shining sun and bitter rain,
My muse with breath of wine and gown stained.
Now so seduced by the city’s charm
We nearly felt the fire of Notre Dame,
as we locked eyes across the Seine.
We “faired the bise”
and waltzed with ease,
as the crowd applauded our dance.
We swayed left and right,
Our souls locked that night,
And the bard let out a toast:
To Wisdom!
Wealth!
And love forevermore!
And like Helen of Troy and Paris,
We embraced again to save the war…
From blood in the Winter,
To peace in the Spring,
From riches in the Summer,
and to Fall a fever-dream.