A hundred bridges leap from either quay

 

March 4 last year was a pouring down rain Sunday in Paris. I wore my rain boots, carried my umbrella, and walked from the Metro to the Bird and Flower Market near the Cathedral of Notre Dame, and then on into the Cathedral itself, which was very crowded.  I was glad I had gone to Mass back at rue du bac.

 

 

petting a very tame rooster at the Bird Market. Not many birds or flowers or customers on such a cold rainy Sunday.

 

walking up to the Cathedral of Notre Dame

 

 

 

Here's another Paris poem, this one by Willa Cather:

 

 

 

 Paris

 

 

Behind the arch of glory sets the day;

 

The river lies in curves of silver light,

 

The Fields Elysian glitter in a spray

 

Of golden dust; the gilded dome is bright,

 

The towers of Notre Dame cut clean and gray

 

The evening sky, and pale from left to right

 

A hundred bridges leap from either quay.

 

Pillared with pride, the city of delight

 

Sits like an empress by her silver Seine,

 

Heavy with jewels, all her splendid dower

 

Flashing upon her, won from shore and main

 

By shock of combat, sacked from town and tower.

 

Wherever men have builded hall or fane

 

Red war hath gleaned for her and men have slain

 

To deck her loveliness. I feel again

 

That joy which brings her art to faultless flower,

 

That passion of her kings, who, reign on reign,

 

Arrayed her star by star with pride and power.