Babel of arcades and stairways,
It was a palace infinite

The clock with its death-like accent
Was brutally striking noon;
The sky was pouring down its gloom
Upon the dismal, torpid world.

Babels of stairways and arcades,
Endless and topless to behold, 

The clock with brutal accent played 

Funereal chimes. The time was noon 
And heaven covered, with its shade, 
The world, this fatuous balloon!

Staircases and arcades there were
In a long labyrinth, which led
To a vast palace

Brutally the twelve strokes of noon
Against my naked ear were hurled;
And a grey sky was drizzling down
Upon this sad, lethargic world.

                       Afternoon in Montmartre.
                       Etiquette for mealtimes.
                       Inoffensive monuments.
                       Il faut amuser les enfants.
                       Biography of a street (rue Saint Honoré, or                     
                       Annual fair.
                       Fashion houses.
                       The bridges.
                       Doors and windows.
                       Architectures of chance. (Posters)
                       Dance hall.
                       The smallest square in Paris.

images: my own
text: various translations of Baudelaire's Parisian Dream, Benjamin's Arcades Project