The Lady of Arles (Poem)

The Lady of Arles

The Lady of Arles


Echoes of Edith
Chanteuse of a certain age.
Je ne regrette rien

Forty years from Barcelona
Playing her life in Arles.
No regrets. No regrets at all.





note: my sister-friend Susan and her husband are playing gypsies traipsing throughout Spain and southern France this month. She keeps my e-mail inbox filled with wordy treats describing eats and events of their day, including occasional photos that wow my (he)artistically starved eyes.  This photo is posted here with her permission.

6 thoughts on “The Lady of Arles (Poem)

  1. Anna Scott Graham

    Was just considering how so often dreams are lost amid the shuffle. Our lives are all that we make them, and this is a beautiful one! Ta love… ;)


  2. L. Marie

    Wow. That poem is convicting in so many ways. She joyfully shares herself and her music because she love to share her art. I grumble about doing things for free. Sigh. A close-handed way to live. I love the lady of Arles’s perspective.

    What a fun trip for your sister-friend and hubby. I would love to take an eating trip like that.
    I know people who used to go to New Orleans for weekends just to eat in restaurants there. :-)

    1. laura bruno lilly Post author

      …especially the eating part: I can taste vicariously without gaining any weight! HA! Yeah, that’s stretching it a bit, but there’s gotta be an upside to not being able to truely-taste-test those luscious tapas and boulangerie offerings. :-D


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