I know I won’t remember every tree
Nobody could, this new-tipped bushy fir,
This flowering chestnut, all of them will blur,
Into a fuzz of green, unfolding free.
Maybe I’ll keep the rivers, Sorgue, Loire, Seine,
Rippling along, which was that bridge at night,
Reflecting in the water silken light?
So history blends Caesar, Charlemagne.
These people walking fast to work or play,
So chic, they smile, disputing what they’re told,
As Voltaire walked here with du Chatelet.
A country is too big a thing to hold
And yesterday gets tangled with today
And memories and time turn all leaves gold.
13th May 2016, Orleans SNCF/Paris
