Paris at night

I’m a little bit in love with Jacques Prévert at the moment. His words are so simple, and complicated. Separate, and tangled. Ordinary, and magical. Like water in a river.

Here’s the first of a series of his poems that I must share with you.



Paris at night

Three matchsticks lit one by one in the night
The first to see the whole of your face
The second to see your eyes
The third to see your mouth
And complete darkness to remember this all
With you locked in my arms.

 _ _ _ _ _ 

And the original…

Trois allumettes une à une allumées dans la nuit
La premiére pour voir ton visage tout entier
La seconde pour voir tes yeux
La dernière pour voir ta bouche
Et l’obscuritè tout entière pour me rappeler tout cela
En te serrant dans mes bras.





Jacques Prévert
(1900-1977)

5 thoughts on “Paris at night

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