Bal Du Moulin Rouge, Paris. E->

English translation below.

Quelques Extraits...

''Les répétitions commençaient le 1er novembre dans l'ancien Lido au 78 des Champs Elysées. J'arrivais de Londres frais et impatient de chanter enfin sur une grande scène. J'avais tant attendu ce moment dans une atmosphère que mes rêves d'enfant voulaient conserver exclusivement parisienne. Un Paris de Bohême et d'artistes. Je trouvai un charmant appartement au 34 de la rue Durantin à Montmartre tout près du Moulin de la Galette. Au dernier étage, les deux fenêtres du salon séparées par la cheminée s'ouvraient sur la ville toute entière pour offrir à ma vue l'Opéra, le Panthéon et la Tour Eiffel et les toits de Montmartre qui allaient devenir mon quotidien. Et la nuit, comme une cerise sur le gâteau, les ailes rouges du Moulin allumées de derrière. La vue parfaite qui depuis longtemps avait envahie mon imaginaire. La peinture de Chagall 'Paris vu de la fenêtre' se transformait en une propre création de chaque jour. J'allais pouvoir reconstituer à ma guise les poèmes et tableaux des Lagarde & Michard du XXème siècle qui au lycée m'avaient racontés Paris. ''

''The rehearsals started right on the Paris Champs-Elysées on a French Bank holiday November 1st in the owner's other world famous cabaret called The Lido which would later turn into the most prestigious discotheque at number 78. I had arrived from London all fresh and impatient, full of hope to see here my days of success happening at last on a big stage. I had been waiting for so long my dreams as a child to come true and they were about to begin real in an exquisite Parisian atmosphere, in a Paris of Bohemia and artists. I had moved a week earlier in a charming small apartment located 34 rue Durantin in the heart of Montmartre, just below the old wooden Galette windmill. From the top floor, the two sitting-room windows that were separated by a brown marble fire place were dominating the entire city to let me continuously admire the illuminated Eiffel tower standing far off over the roofs of Paris till the opera House as well as the the Pantheon and this view was about to become my daily decor. At night, like a cherry on the cake the Gods had granted me, I could see from their back the red wings of the Moulin Rouge turning round flashing loud and proud their lights. The perfect view that had since long ago invaded my imaginary through the Chagall painting ''Paris seen from the window'' was then about to, and every single day, concede my own creation. I could then rebuild as much as I fancied to all the poems and paintings I had read and seen at school about Paris.''