Where the truth hides from our eyes a tired city goes quietly to sleep
You look at these streets fading into the stillness of the night
Lighting up the small candles of a frightened civilization
In this illusion of home live the people that will go now to sleep
They will dream of a different world just to wake up back to this one again
And another day and another evening will soon follow to their lives
So good night tired city, hope you sleep well
Iíll be asleep and dreaming of another day that will end up well
As the sun sets on the beautiful and breathtaking Marseille, France.
The words in my poem don't refer to Marseille in particular, but to city life in general. I really loved Marseille.