Paris Blues

 In the Paris of my longing,

December has bloomed

Where are you? Where are you?

I am in the Latin Quarters

Hemingway is with me, Joyce too

Where are you? Where are you?

I look for God in Notre Dame, (I call him by your name)

Angry Priests call me a fool

Where are you? Where are you?

I cross roaring cafes, afraid, of poets better than myself

That you may hear their poems too

Where are you? Where are you?

Fair English beauty beware,

Poetic armies spread their wings. There willl be no Waterloo

Where are you? Where are you?

Now night falls in the hearts of men and mice fill in the metro cars

But that waning phantom blooms, is that you?

Where are you? Where are you?

Many years from now when I reminisce Paris and her revolutionaries

Will you come then, will you?

Where are you? Where are you?

One night when we stripped down to lies. You said you'd find me anywhere.

Was that true?

Where are you? Where are you?