La langue française C'est comme la pluie douce en mai Comme la poésie qui embrasse la soirée Comme de la musique pour mes pieds Comme l'oreiller pour la tête fatiguée Comme l'amour pour le cœur brisé ❤️ Matêyá
Whenever I go to France or to the french part of Switzerland, I start to feel the breeze in my mouth, butterflies in my heart and lightness in my feet, like dancings in the corners of the narrow french streets. That is how I feel when I speak French. A great reminder that is was all so worth to learn this language for so many years with the toughest teacher in the Universe. Madame Neubauer. Unforgettable teacher in high school - the Lady with the artificial eyebrows, wild blue eyeliner, hair full of hairspray and clothes from the 70's. Later came all nice and poetic teachers: Nadja for the "French Business communications", Nadine for the "Difficult Conversations in French" and Robert- a very French guy with whom I was having debates on more or less normal and some more awkward topics by the coffee. Now I am taking every opportunity to speak some olàla language and let its breeze take me dancing.
