Letter From Paris in March

From Margo Berdeshevsky

Notes from this side of the Seine:

Paris, winter rides into spring, 2011

 

Winter Seine

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Winter Seine

 

Dear ones, Winter was “icumin in, laude sing goddam.” Well it did. And hence,  a quiet winter season where one wanted to hide, mostly, and think of nothing. Except perhaps a solarized and pewter river. Or the sound of bronchitis. Everyone I know in Paris was bundled and fevered and hiding from the pewter skies, if they could. If not, the street held them in icy hands.

 

 

Shoe-on-ice

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Shoe-on-ice

Those who had nowhere at all to battle winter became the ever tragic silhouettes of the streets.

 

 

Paris, Ground Level

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Paris, Ground Level

 

And as ever… little boys wanted to be bigger boys.

 

 

Big Boyz Bikes

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Big Boyz Bikes

 

And steps led up and down the chill…to winter dreaming of when, if ever, our dreams might turn warm, our poetry matter…

 

Steps to the Seine

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Steps to the Seine

Elsewhere in the city,  it was Sunday, the Seine was a quiet dragon, I was thinking,  the statuary of lions pacing, and the last breaths of the collective human armor, more fragile than ever, nakedness of soul, more obvious just below the river’s yellowed shimmer.

Lion Walk

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Lion Walk

Occasionally, I headed to my favorite park, the Luxembourg, once endowed for art and culture by the Medicis. (Interesting tidbit: Queen Catherine de Medici was once known as Madame Snake, and whilst a patron of the cooking and balletic arts, and married to French Henri II, she was also one of the most Machiavellian of rulers. A friend recently posed the question, in this time of multi and dire male dictators, were there as many such women? Catherine was an obvious example. She did have a propensity for poison. But, she had money. And the artichoke, which she brought to France, and the ballet—all benefited.)

The later de Medici, Marie, made a treasure of the Luxembourg gardens and its palace.

Marie de Médici 1

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Marie de Médici 1

m-de-medici-sign

Marie de Médici 2

 

 

 

And so, for me, this winter…back to the Luxembourg gardens…Stark with the season’s silence, the statues danced, almost in defiance of the cold. Statues, empty green old-lady  chairs, the near nakedness… and the wind was rising against a slate sky, and I stopped in front of the park fence. I remembered a year earlier, seeing a display on the tall iron fence that surrounds the park—which had grabbed me like necessary hands. Now, I remembered it. In defiance of the weather and my mood. In honor, in my way, of the revolutions that are all around us, now. In thought, in heart, and in memory.

The photos I was remembering from last year were these: huge weatherproofed photographs of Viet Nam’s “river of new dragons,” (that’s what was written on the fence, and I was again arrested by the coincidence of that and my own river-crossing thoughts) … Under the very first, a photograph of a sleeping mother and son, adrift on the muddy river, dead or alive, one wasn’t quite sure…and below the image, I read this poem by one of Vietnam’s most renowned poets, Lam Thi My Da. “Hoa Lu” was the name of the ancient capital. And with a poet’s whisper, I remembered that “Hoa Loa” was the name of that once infamous and longtime prison, the Hanoi Hilton.

 

Viet Nam Poem

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Viet Nam Poem

Viet Nam, Hoa Lu

“If one day I melt into the moonlight

oh my child, transform yourself into a rice field …

If one day, I change myself into a prairie

oh my love, be a little calf …

If one day, I dissolve into a river

oh, my darling, become the light …

If one day, I change into a sail

oh, my child, transform yourself into the wind …”

If I were : Lam Thi My Da (1949)

a famous lady poetess in Viet Nam

Throughout this hard winter, so many fighting and dreaming people around the world believing “if I were….” As the winter and the thought of transformation stayed with me, so did this poem.

And still without regrets… was dear Edith Piaf overseeing us, yet and still? I dared hope the answer to be yes.

Piaf on a wall

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, Piaf on a wall

Margo Berdeshevsky :

http://margoberdeshevsky.blogspot.com/

“Beautiful Soon Enough”(Fiction Collective Two /2009)

http://fc2.org/authors/berdeshevsky/berdeshevsky.htm

Amazon Author page: http://tinyurl.com/ygft9wu


About these ads

5 comments

  1. these are simply exquisite.

  2. I love Margo’s conjuring of winter in Paris, which is its own beauty.

  3. My husband’s description of his ride through Paris –crowded with other GI’s in the back of an Army truck…blistering hot 2:00AM, street lined with cheering people…man holding up a
    bottle-as he leaned down to take it someone kissed him on ear
    Summer 1944…wine, flowers, kisses…trucks moving slowly
    thru crowds … the day of liberation
    s

  4. Sublime. And then, the amusing surprise of the last photograph, Piaf in color, if muted. The effect is still b&w.

  5. Noha Khalil-Valenti

    Dear Margo, You are a good photographer, the shoe in the ice is just outstanding. I truly love the location of the shoe and also the diagonal lines of the ice. Most of all, I admire how you finished on a cautious positive note “I dared hope the answer to be yes.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 241 other followers

%d bloggers like this: