I was born in Montreal like my mother. I have long felt an emotional attachment to my hometown.
It was only when I returned home after a long study in Paris that I realized that Montreal has a vibrant and joyful soul. It was open in its day, but it wasn’t a nice town.
In winter, on the other hand, its ugliness was covered with snow. I still remember reciting the verses of the 19th-century Montreal-born poet Albert Lozio to class in elementary school from third grade. “When the snow falls in my country/Great snowflakes cover the branches,/And the eyes are troubled/The clarity of the white roads. […] When it snows in my country, / we see frolicking in the streets / little children rejoiced / reappeared with many specials. »
Well, Montreal, Quebec’s economic and commercial metropolis, has been marred by numerous construction sites conceptualized by a postmodern agro-horticultural vision. Even with a centimeter of snow, the streets and sidewalks in Montreal neighborhoods are ruined by all kinds of work, where even the settled dirt can’t hide.
During snowstorms, Montreal’s ugliness rarely disappears. Because graffiti and other tags survive the whims of the weather.
How many more years will Montreal burn like a hurricane?
Apparently, local citizens understand this and are leaving the island of Montreal for larger suburbs in the process of urbanization.
Or, in the case of the more affluent, to the well-kept secrets of the villages where Lozio’s poetry derives its full meaning. “When it snows in my country, / As the whole sky is scattered / The mountain and gray roofs / Cover with its clear rain, […] It’s the most beautiful country in the world/when it snows in my country! »
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