Harry Street:
[voiceover]
There are so many things that I've not written - and that I'll never write now. I've written only that first time in Paris - the Paris that I loved. The Place Contrescarpe - where the flower sellers dyed their flowers in the street. The dye ran purple over the paving stones where the autobus started. And the children played in the streets in the spring sunshine. And the wood and coal man's place. He sold wine too. Bad wine. And the golden horse's head outside the Boucherie Chevaline - where the carcasses hung yellow, gold and red in the window. And the green-painted cooperative where we bought our wine. Good wine and cheap.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 07:48

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