Mise en Seine

Stroll along the ribbon that wraps around Paris, and discover a new, unexpected, unsuspected face with each escapade.

It flows through the heart of the millennial city, to the rhythm of the century and in the echo of a proud past.

Festivals are in full swing on its slopes, secrets are hidden under its arcades, races are held along its route, dance steps are performed at all ages, in wise or turbulent weather… Life is celebrated every day, through singing, romance, games or feasting. A permanent tribute to a joyful and grateful city.

The time of light marries in its waves the time of golden splendor, the time of darkness is wrapped in the coils of discretion. Sometimes out of sight, sometimes in the glow of a rainbow.
Always in my eyes!

Flooded with love and a floating mood, I make fun of nature's revolts and the scars that mark my flesh. The inside alone leads my life, protects me and makes me blossom.

In these sparks the summer blows its festive air, its scent of joy. And when Paris is jubilant, along your banks young and elderly flock to celebrate life.

Awake and with lanterns on your forehead, you face the darkness of souls as much as the darkness of the streets. In search of words that challenge the mind, the thought, that soothe and delight, accompany all the arts.

Crossed glances of shadow and light, of the present in the footsteps of the past, under the watchful eye of eternity.

To read the threatening sky, to dissect its rumblings, to understand its inner wars, and to find in its darkness the light that will wipe out her warm tears.

The only ornament that Paris can wear through the centuries, to preserve the brilliance of its legend.

The paving stones that speak and the waves that sing compete for the golden glow of the night for our beautiful eyes.

When talent leads the dance, admiration has no age or boundaries. The bowing world falls into step.

Day and night watchmen, in case a bad joker would dare to steal this bridge from under Henri's nose, in awe of its beauty.

Rendez-vous on my shores, at the joyful hour when humanity finds its most precious possession; the one that smiles, sharing and drunkenness of all kinds carry.

Curly, bushy, twisted, fragile heart-catchers for the feelings that the foam carries away. Destination rebirth.

Barricade of carelessness, what a joy it is to erect you sometimes to better find myself with myself, in the soothing emptiness. Indifferent to the world, forgotten of existence.

Unique moment, I enjoy you. Tightrope walker on the water, as peaceful and detached, giving free rein to my spirit. Lightness darling, take me away.

Byron, plunge your pen into this unique inkwell, from which Chopin would certainly have extracted some notes of romanticism for the soul. Lovers sharing these steps towards their common destiny will savour it.

In the heart of a sleepless night, you lull my thoughts, and my inspired pen lays down its raw emotions.

The singular envies the plural. Does he know that one and one do not always make two? The plural sometimes dreams of being singular. Does he only remember the flavour of freedom?

Diagonal lines drawn on dry land, the oceans, through infinite space, like so many indelible marks of your ephemeral passage, your unique work, your singular signature.

Childhood petals with a candy taste, on your marks!

What does this golden laurel wreath celebrate and glorify? Your splendour, your greatness, your longevity? An Alexander had to baptize you, to bring you to the rank of History. The Caesars would have chosen you for their path of triumph.

Between dusk and dawn, when night and day flirt, the love of light dances with nuances. Fireworks and celebrations between heaven and earth.