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Marie Flore
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Joan Baez
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1
Marie, Marie Flore was a small girl of ten
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whom I met in the south end of France.
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Stepping out of the crowd was the daughter
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of someone with flowers for me, we were friends at a glance.
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She spoke no English but sat by my side in the car
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and pointed out places en route to the village of Arles.
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Marie, Marie Flore came to table that night
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as I dined in an ancient hotel.
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The room was all fitted with things from the seventeenth century
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and they suited her well.
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She would eat nothing but sat in her chair like a queen
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and laughed at my French but seemed always to know what I'd mean.
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Marie, Marie Flore came to hear me that night
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when I sang for the people of Arles.
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She stood back in the shadows of a ruined arena,
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her frame in my mind was never too far.
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In the rush that did follow I found she was holding my hand
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and ushering me through an evening the elders had planned.
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Marie, Marie Flore, I will always remember
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your eyes, your smile and your grace.
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The gold that flowed with your laughter remains
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to enlighten the image I have of your face.
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For I have seen children with faces much wiser than time,
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and you, my Marie, are most certainly one of this kind.
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Marie, Marie Flore, all the odds say I see you again
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by plan or by chance.
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But if not you'll be there when I'm dreaming of rain over Paris
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or sun on the south end of France.
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Marie, Marie, Marie Flore
Joan Baez - Fare Thee Well Abschiedstour...
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