Comments about Yiorgos Christodoulides
A parade in Paris; so unexpected.
We were heading for Notre-Dame.
Gold-red uniforms of spearmen;
horses’ feces in the streets.
La Seine, a worn-out affirmation.
Tourists looking for the right place.
Souvenirs and curious queues of curious people.
The bells will soon toll
and according to schedule
Quasimodo will take a leap in space
so warmly applauded.