Classic Poem

VERSE

Haunting the page of my passport,
Faint as a ghost of the past,
Are the day and the hour of my heart's one adventure,
The sweetest, the first, and the last.
One precious moment of madness,
Something too sweet to explain,
When my heart kept repeating, " I love you, I love you, "
In time with the wheels of the train.

REFRAIN

When I return to Paris in the Spring,
My foolish heart must be aflame.
Why has the magic gone from everything?
Paris is not the same.
Though there are chestnut blossoms in the bois,
Like Easter candles all aflame,
And yet somehow in spite of the beauty of April,
Paris is not the same.
Lonely and sad in the room on the courtyard
Away from the sound of the street,
Haunted at night by the ghost of a memory,
Impossibly lonely and heavenly sweet.
Among the voices on the boulevard
There's one that seems to call my name.
But I never look 'round, for I know there's no one,
No one to call my name.
Paris is not the same.