It is so peaceful on the ceiling!
It is the Place de la Concorde.
The little crystal chandelier
Is off, the fountain is in the dark.
Not a soul is in the park.
Below, where the wallpaper is peeling,
The Jardin des Plantes has locked its gates.
Those photographs are animals.
The mighty flowers and foliage rustle;
Under the leaves the insects tunnel.
We must go under the wallpaper
To meet the insect-gladiator,
To battle with a net and trident,
And leave the fountain and the square
But oh, that we could sleep up there….