Edith Piaf La Vie en Rose

EDITH “LA MOME” PIAF

Every time she sang, people stopped: their work, their worries, their

Disappointments, their meals, and gave her their ears. O, Chanteuse!

In Paris, she was a little throbbing sparrow with a huge voice

That crooned, “I am singing about you—this place and this time—forever.”

How did such a tiny vessel ring with such a full tone?

“La Mome” knew their hearts, knew their souls, carried their torch,

And all who heard her caught the flame that seared them.

Many would start, clasp their hands, and gaze at the enchantress

Out of whose mouth their mysteries and secrets were revealed.

Many, listening alone to a radio, would feel their lips quiver, sense

Each tear that trickled down their cheeks, sigh and

Peek out a window at the City of Lights, city of art, city of

Iniquities, city of failing empire, city of humiliation.

As she sang “No, Je Ne Regrette Rien,” all the denizens knew she knew

Full well their strengths and weaknesses and loved them despite their faults.



This acrostic poem about another creative woman who suffered for her art was first published in Creative Woman, Miami Dade College, 2008, and subsequently in the Ann Arbor Review, Fall 2009.  I recommend the movie La Vie en Rose about Edith Piaf.  It's a wonderful rendition of her life and art.  Click here to order:  La Vie en Rose