Il y a la place des Vosges, ses arcades et ses toits gris. Un groupe d'amis pique-niquent, une fille médite assise en tailleur au soleil, une autre fait face à son entraîneur de boxe à l'ombre des arbres aux feuillages taillés en parallélépipèdes bien alignés.
This summer, I spent three weeks in Paris. Three weeks during which I could discover the city. During which I could fall in love everyday with the capital. I couldn't not talk about my trip here. So even though summer is almost finished. Even though holidays ended a while ago, I think it's never too late to talk about memories.
In this first article about Paris, I wanted to tell you about the Marais as it appeared to me. I went there four times. Four times I lost myself in the streets of this district. Sometimes I was alone, sometimes with somebody. Each time, I discovered new streets, I laid my eyes on details I had not seen before. There is a trendy bobo atmosphere in this quarter. It's pleasant to walk under the july blue sky, to roam the little streets, to go into the beautiful shops admiring at the pricy clothes.
There is the place des Vosges, its arcades and grey roofs. A group of friends is having a picnic, a girl meditates sitting cross-legged in the sunlight, another is facing her boxing coach in the shadows projected by the trees whose foliage has been cut in well aligned parallelepipeds.
L'architecture au charme ancien, les mosaïques de la rue du Temple, tout est beau. A chaque coin de rue il y a quelque chose à regarder, à admirer, à prendre en photo pour essayer de capturer l'instant. Mais vous n'avez jamais l'instant tout entier avec la chaleur du soleil de juillet, l'odeur de la rue, les bruits de pas des badauds, les bribes de conversations des passants.
The old architecture, the mosaïcs of la rue du Temple, everything is beautiful. Every corner, you come across Something to look at, to admire, to take a picture of trying to capture the moment. But you never have the whole with the warmth of the july sun, the smell of the street, the sound of the passersby's footsteps, the snatches of conversation.
Au détour d'une rue, on découvre un square avec des rosiers dont les fleurs s'étiolent à mesure que l'on s'éloigne du printemps. Il y a des gens assis sur les bancs. Certains sont en couple, certains sont en famille, certains sont seuls. Ils profitent d'un havre de paix et de verdure perdu au milieu de la ville. Ils respirent.
Suddenly you discover a square with rosebushes whose flowers are withering as spring is rolling away. There are people sitting on benches. Some are in couple, some are in family, some are alone. They enjoy a peaceful square of nature lost in the middle of the city. They are breathing.
Il y a des œuvres d'art qui apparaissent soudain au milieu de cette jungle urbaine. Des coins de poésie qui attirent l'œil, nous happent un court moment dans notre déambulation.
There are pieces of art appearing in the middle of the urban jungle. Fragments of poetry that catch the eye, steal our attention for a brief instant during our perambulation.
Le Marais, c'est tout ça et c'est bien plus.
The Marais, it's this and so much more.
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