Thoughts of Paris

Paris, when I last walked your streets,
I did not understand how you could be
So delicate, yet so strong.
I knew that you had outlasted the ages,
But how you could still be queen
Of all the cities of the world
Still eluded me.

There is something about you
That sings of a melodic harp note,
Plucked and vibrating without end,
Without the final conclusion that comes
To all cities that were once great and lovely.
Paris, you who are the grandest of cities,
Living on through the falls of others,
You mystified me.

I could never comprehend your eternity,
When the shifting sands of Time have
Covered Troy and Ephesus, leaving them
As memories in epic tales.
I did not understand how you could
Waver between vision and reality,
Able to remain yourself, never allowing
The ever-changing world to
Alter you beyond your natural loveliness
In pursuit of the false beauty that crowns
The modern princesses who aspire to
Your fame.

I did not understand, did not comprehend
Your majesty, but there is something in me
Now that lessens the difference between us.
I have lived long and grown wiser since
I last walked your streets, and that
Carefree gaiety is no longer mine.
While you have remained as lovely,
My fleeting beauty has gone,
Having stayed with me for a time
And then passed on. 

But now, seeing you once again,
I know what it is to grow old gracefully,
And though I cannot do the same,
I can still walk your streets and
Remember what it was to be young,
Carefree and full of gaiety,
Unconscious of Time’s passing.
But you, Paris, have no such memories.
You will always be here, while such as I
Walk your streets and wonder.