In Paris the houses seem polished bright
Especially on late sun-lit afternoons
Sprawled on its warm courtyard stones
Paris is a woman, languorous and white

Then the first stirrings, the first people
And this will turn to an evening reverie
Paris…weird, confusing, enigma city
Paris…sightless, heartless, and brutal

The Eifel Tower on its great dragon frame
Bears a miniscule fist-sized brain
Witless, dull-eyed, now grows near now distant

Collapse there, if you will, for love or lack of hope
If you will, scream there, go mad, or just croak
This town will exceed you at every instant