The Bohemian", a poem by Louis Aragon (1897-1982). This poem was adapted into a song, performed by Yves Montand.
Near the locks, there's a low-lying bohemian quarter, where young people spend their time trying to untangle "yours from mine".
Bands of them go there by car, usually in August. They tell fortunes for peppers and sweet wine.
We spent the starry night drinking. We danced while clapping our hands. The night flew by so fast that we hardly realized when it was broad daylight and tomorrow had come! We came back together. Cheerful, penniless, vaguely drunk, with flowers in our carts, our destiny written in our palm.
I took the hand of a young lady, who followed me home.
She had ultramarine eyes, she showed the folly of it.
She walked lightly, and had the long legs of a fawn.
I already loved foreign women when I was a little child!
This one spoke with a flourish, of the smell of magnolias. Her dress fell right off when my haste untied it. In those days, I was gullible, a word sounded like a promise to me, and I candidly thought that the bellflowers were passion flowers.
Every time, it starts all over again! Music always grips me, and the most banal romance looks like an eternal poem to me.
We played with our souls, a long day, a short night, then in the morning: "Good bye, madam!".
Love ends with the rain!
La vidéo sur youtube est vraiment magnifique avec la belle Gina********** Lots of congrats ! Merci pour le partage et ta charmante visite**************************
Wow,dieser Blick in ihren Augen,der ist richtig zauberhaft liebe Rosèha,herrlich,wie das Licht auf ihr Gesicht gekommen ist,da hast du wieder was Wundervolles kreiert,das mir sehr gefällt :))
Wünsche noch einen schönen Abend,ganz liebe Grüße Güni :))
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37 comments
Roséha D. said:
The Bohemian", a poem by Louis Aragon (1897-1982). This poem was adapted into a song, performed by Yves Montand.
Near the locks, there's a low-lying bohemian quarter, where young people spend their time trying to untangle "yours from mine".
Bands of them go there by car, usually in August. They tell fortunes for peppers and sweet wine.
We spent the starry night drinking. We danced while clapping our hands. The night flew by so fast that we hardly realized when it was broad daylight and tomorrow had come! We came back together. Cheerful, penniless, vaguely drunk, with flowers in our carts, our destiny written in our palm.
I took the hand of a young lady, who followed me home.
She had ultramarine eyes, she showed the folly of it.
She walked lightly, and had the long legs of a fawn.
I already loved foreign women when I was a little child!
This one spoke with a flourish, of the smell of magnolias. Her dress fell right off when my haste untied it. In those days, I was gullible, a word sounded like a promise to me, and I candidly thought that the bellflowers were passion flowers.
Every time, it starts all over again! Music always grips me, and the most banal romance looks like an eternal poem to me.
We played with our souls, a long day, a short night, then in the morning: "Good bye, madam!".
Love ends with the rain!
Louis Aragon. To discover on the website www.poesie-francaise.fr/louis-aragon/poeme-l-etrangere>
Annemarie said:
Roséha D. said:
Lots of thanks*****************
Jadviga Grase said:
The black and white look great!
Roséha D. said:
Joe, Son of the Rock said:
Roséha D. replied to Joe, Son of the Rock:
Boro said:
Roséha D. replied to Boro:
Günter Klaus said:
Wünsche noch einen schönen Abend,ganz liebe Grüße Güni :))
Makrofan said:
William Sutherland said:
Admired in: www.ipernity.com/group/tolerance
elvigiadelosamanecer… said:
Madeleine Defawes said:
Bonne journée. Amitiés
Edna Edenkoben said: