Farewell, Paris

A liberal translation of Catullus XLVI Spring was blossoming through chilly rain, The strain of winter silently levelled By the golden rays of a Western sun.“I shall leave the streets of ParisAnd her cheap, sweaty bars;I shall go and the cities of Britain and Italy.”Already I felt Wanderlust, my feet lighter with the thought of travel. “My dear … Continue reading Farewell, Paris