Mysticism Of Paris…
… A sense of being in the past. Nothing surprising, but it seems familiar…
In the morning we go on an excursion to Versailles. I’ll tell you about it later. The guide on the way told about Louis the fourteenth, about his women, about how Louis before the wedding to Mary (she was just a girl) still saw her, and told his mother that she had beautiful eyes. The guide’s stories seemed to immerse us in the world of the past. A world of celebration, luxury, kings and favorites.
As soon as we got off the bus, the weather began to deteriorate, first the wind began to blow, then it began to drizzle. The sky was clear, without clouds, then instantly darkened from the incoming clouds. Our group was divided into 2. The first went to inspect the Palace, the remaining invited to wander around the Park. The desire to see the entire Park and its size were incompatible. And considering that in an hour and a half we will be invited to a tour of the Palace of Versailles, we decided to be content with the beauty of the surrounding areas. When we came to the first fountain, there was no water in it. The beloved said aloud: “Without water, this structure resembles a skeleton of pipes and sculptures.”And suddenly, as if guessing her thoughts, the water gurgled, its pressure increasing every minute. But in the fall, virtually all the fountains were turned off. Water filled the pool rapidly. Naturally, I wanted to get closer. Gardeners were working in the flower beds nearby. It turns out that the bushes here are trimmed once a year and only when the weather is overcast.
The attention of the Beloved was attracted by blue flowers. They looked like bells. Gardeners plucked them out of the ground and piled them up. Some force carried me away, and I went to the cut plants. The flowers seemed to have just opened. But a tall stalk with blue flowers beckoned me with the color of the blue mantle of the sun king. The gardeners looked at me, smiling. I could hardly find the French words in my memory, so I asked permission to take the flower. For a loved one. The Manager came up, a young girl the gardeners called “boss.” She listened to the request with a smile and said ” Yes!”. And here is a blue flower in my hands. The man cut a second blue flower – it was taller than the first – and handed it to me. As if feeling the touch of time, the beloved named them Maria and Louis. The time of our acquaintance with the Park was running out, and my favorite Did not want to part with these flowers. We hid them under my jacket and entered the Palace. When we returned from Versailles, my Love put flowers in the water.
Every night and every morning we had the feeling that the spirit of the past was in the room. The beloved greeted the flowers in the morning and said “Good night, Louis, good night Maria” in the evening. The day of departure home came. Things were Packed in suitcases, only flowers stood proudly, as if in a blue robe, in a water bottle. They stayed fresh for a week. The beloved looked at them for a long time, and finally said aloud: “Farewell to Louis and Mary. I can’t take you with me.”
And suddenly the blue petals of the “Louis” like tears, one by one, began to fall rapidly on the table. They seemed to roll down his cheek in the air. The petals fell like drops of tears! Finally there was a bare stalk. But no one touched the flowers. “Maria” remained the same proud and lonely.