Paris, la poesie du monde

Refinement, elegance, splendor. Pure art. These were the first words that came to my mind at the first sight of this beautiful city. We have all heard its fame as a city of lights, arts, eccentricities, we have all at least once learned of the opulence and good taste hidden among the cute streets of it, of the Champs-Elysee or the banks of the quiet Seine.

Many novels were written, all the great writers, and the little ones expressed their admiration for the big city, many spoke about its museums, parks, sculptures, about the parisian life, about their way of life, but when you get to see it with your own eyes it is a lot more overwhelming, and each point of view is different of course. Each one of us has different filters through which we judge everything around us, everything that touches us, everything that impresses us. Paris should certainly be one of those places that get to touch your core.

The first thing I went to visit was the Eiffel Tower, of course. You can’t miss such an emblematic monument when you’re in Paris. It looked smaller in the photos, but it is so impressive, seen from the bridge of the Seine on a warm afternoon. I felt honored and grateful to be able to finally arrive where so many travelers have walked, to be able to look at one of the most important monuments in the world. I would have liked to reach the top, but I didn’t have much time. After admiring his metal construction enough, I got off the bridge and went to admire the swans playing quietly. Everything was so natural to them.

The next stop was the Arc de Triomphe. There is another almost identical in Bucharest, an architectural jewel as well, but I had to see the original too. It is built in the same way as the one in Romania, with the boulevards that split from the opening of its arch to all directions of the city. One of them is the Champs-Elysees, with all the big fashion houses next to each other, cafes and restaurants, where I starting walking on , admiring all the beauty and glam that I saw.

Walking on the Champs-Elysee I headed to the Louvre Museum. I passed through the Champs-Elysee Garden, through the Place de la Concorde, past the imposing statue of General Charles de Gaulle, until I reached the Jardin des Tuileries, the garden created by Catherine de Medici in 1564, owned by the Tuileries Palace, where most of the monarchs of France resided, even Napoleon Bonaparte; the palace was set on fire at the end of the French Revolution. All I can tell you is that it is a splendor, from the tall trees grown and cared for in a straight line, with all the flowers that color the vivid green with their efflorescences, with the statues that beautify even more the numerous artesian wells and statues, it is truly of a poetic brilliance.

Finally, passing through the garden, I arrived at the Louvre Museum. I climbed the stairs overlooking the city and passed through a carved gate, a mini triumphal arch. In front of me the museum was laying , with its emblematic crystal entrance, and on either side, on a considerable area, all its pavilions. In front of the entrance there is a fountain that mirrors its silver image.

Paris is indeed the definition of art, of the elegance, of the best qualities of human nature. Art is what makes us forget that we are ephemeral, but art is not. Architecture, paintings, decoration, literature, music, … whatever it might be expressed through, art is what in fact makes us immortal. Even thought we know it is so easily destructed, so fragile as our own nature, we keep creating it, we crave it, some of us dedicate our entire existence in perceiving it, in obtaining it, and that’s what is beautiful about our genes. Humans weren’t born creators, but we became artists in time.

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