Park Monceau

In the park Monceau birds are singing. Endlessly. In the park Monceau …. The
The cut the grass in the park Monceau. Winters and springs along the cut.
In the park Monceau children play. They speak French. They laugh in park Monceau. And birds are happy as well.
There are few gardeners. Everyone has a beautiful loan. Everyone has a beautiful wife.
They are so gallant gentlemen.
Park Monceau is so nice in the mornings. The Sun is always there. The Sun loves Pak Monceau. Grdeners and Sun – are true friends of Park Monceau.
…Daytime come there children and Sun. and at night – birds and a man with tired eyes. He lives there. He sleeps on the bench. It is a green bench. Everything is green in Park Monceau. And eyes of this man are green.
…It is a man with tired green eyes. At nights he sleeps in the Park Monceau, daytime he reads the newspaper “Liberation”. Number hundred forty seven. Oh, happy man!
Daytime is his time to read. To read the same issue of “Liberation”. Number hundred forty seven of this year. Or probably last year.. . Nighttimes the newspaper becomes a pillow.
He is a rich man – he has a Park Monceau and he has a Time to read. It’s his happiness. It’s his burden.
In the Park Monceau one can hear loughing children. If no lough – then noise….of mashine… And birds are singing – on can always hear.
Hey, you, citizen of Park Monceau, birds and a man with green eyes! Make my world happy!
Oh, happy creatures! Please open me a magic of number one hundred forty seven!