When you’re get tired,
When something bothers you,
When you’re feeling down and depressed,
When you feel love ...
There is a place that helps, where you can go.
It’s a park where mice used to run – Montsouris Park,
It will open its treasure gate in front of you,
It will invite you for a green grass party.
|It will exhibit its richness in
all its shades of green,
Rare bushes and slim trees in blossom all,
Deep blue sky lake and silent whisper of a stream.
You feel that springtime scent, don’t you ?
You hear the grass growing its roots,
As it’s knitting its carpet covered with green ?
||With certain joy you walk
down the path,
The Yew alley,
The stony way,
And all the trees they smile at you,
Just stop and close your eyes,
Can you hear it ?
It’s a weep of a cedar pouring its tears into the lake,
Whisper of a lonely yew warning the lovers,
Song of sequoia and of a proud pine the ward of the park.
Look at that beauty – the nature itself.
Left for the future.
|Montsouris – it’s an asylum, it’s
a fresh air.
It’s a glory for the birds chant,
And for the rising sun on every morning.
It’s a hiding place for the courting,
Where love is hanging in the air.
It’s a place for you, designed and destined,
Because your path makes it through.
It’s your joy and your refuge,
Where the mice used to run, your dreams will come true.