Youth
On the boulevards of the Opéra
where the girls pace up and down
turning this way, and turning that
their svelte and lovely necks
the young man up from the fields
wanders along and on and on
mind astray, heart like a drum,
he’s stymied by his awkwardness.
Back he goes to his solitude
to the humble exile of study,
to the small hotel room, worry,
and this poem eluding you
O vile Opéra boulevards
where the girls went pacing up and down
turning this way, and turning that
their svelte and lovely necks.
About this poem
This poem, representing France, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012.
