Guillaume Apollinaire

(26 August 1880 – 9 November 1918 / Rome)

Hotels - Poem by Guillaume Apollinaire

The room is free
Each for himself
A new arrival
Pays by the month
The boss is doubtful
Whether you’ll pay
Like a top
I spin on the way
The traffic noise
My neighbour gross
Who puffs an acrid
English smoke
O La Vallière
Who limps and smiles
In my prayers
The bedside table
And all the company
in this hotel
know the languages
of Babel
Let’s shut our doors
With a double lock
And each adore
his lonely love


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Poem Edited: Thursday, October 11, 2012


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