Une chanson du printemps

We’ll always have this cold moment, my son –
always this shock. Your visor. Always this.
Have I myself the look of a gilet jaune,
Paris?

Paris, my prince. All’s so precarious.
In case you missed it, listen in: I’m
the woman in your way, this most serious
springtime.

La France est entre la peste et le choléra.
Vie ou mort? Je demande. Content ou morose?
En chantant, les manifestants. Moi aussi –
Rose –

an unaccommodating old matrone!
American fiascos now shall bore us
in this shocked town of ours. This hi-vis town.
Paris ...