In the evening, the river is a theater
the water carries the music
to our ears, the romance
of a saxophone, sunset
twinkling in the wine and the church
rosy, completely gentle grace
Tourists pretend click clack
that not they, but we, are the extras
and the city were a cardboard set:
theme park Paris l'amour
young people on the quays around
a pillar candle and kissing
couples as it should be
in the sunthrowers of the tourist vessels
gleam the spots in the corners
that you can smell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem