William Flesch

Most evenings I’d meet Daniel right in frontOf City Hall, to walk home for our mealOn Rue Domat, just westward of Rue Dante.We’d stroll across the bridges, always steal A glance at militaires patrolling thereIn threes (in Charlie Hebdo days), while highAbove the gardens and above the . . . . Continue Reading »

Notre Dame is quite old: one will see it perhapsStill bury that Paris it saw at its birth;But in a few thousand years Time will cause to collapse(As wolves do to cattle) this carcass to earth,Twist its tendons of iron, then with a deaf toothChew its bones made of rock, which fills us with ruth.From . . . . Continue Reading »