LA RUE DES MAUVAIS GARÇONS

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SEVEN OLD MEN (to Victor Hugo) Swarming city, filled with dreams, where spectres in broad daylight intercept the passer-by! Everywhere mysteries pulse their life-blood in narrow channels of the mighty colossus. One day, in sad streets, as houses, whose height the fog seemed to make even taller, rose like the two banks of a river run dry, and - decor similar to the actor's soul - this filthy yellow fog flooded everything, I wandered, steeling my nerves - a hero - questioning my soul already weary in streets rumbled by heavy waggons; next French