In the shadow of old Parisian streets,Where cobblestones remember every tread,Lies a silence, where past and present meet,A dance of memories, the living and the dead.The Seine carries whispers of those gone,In gentle waves that kiss the ancient stones,Stories woven in the early dawn,Where history hums in soft, eternal tones.Chandeliers dim in grand chateaux halls,Echoes of laughter now a distant song,Time’s gentle hand upon the gilded walls,Where once the vibrant souls did belong.Yet in the heart of France, the spirit thrives,In every shadowed corner and sunlit lane,For though death claims, memory survives,A timeless dance of joy and gentle pain.