More Prévert, Mélissande's jokes

Mélissande is a student at the lycée who has become a really cool friend. She's 19 and finishing her last year before she either works in hotel/restauration or something else. She was born and raised in a little village outside Annecy - a "country girl" who loves the mountains and such. She told me she lived in Paris for a year with her aunt and can't stand the big city, but loves Paris nonetheless.

She told me this funny story that shows how people here in the country consider the intelligence of Parisians:

A Parisian tourist driving along some road in Haute Savoie noticed this guy driving one of the big trucks for pushing all the snow out of the road. He stopped and rolled down his window, "Excuse me, sir, but what do you do with all that snow at the end of the year?"
The guy looked at the Parisian and said, "Oh, well, we store it and then use it for the next year."
The Parisian said, "Oh, OK, well that makes sense," and drove off.

But she said of course the Parisians think the people here in Haute Savoie live in little mountain cabins with no running water and electricity. And there's an enormous difference in IQ between people from Savoie and Haute Savoie (the two departments), Savoie being the region in which cousins intermarry (so the joke goes).

Here's another Prévert poem. Bear with me, I'm really getting into his poetry.

To Make a Portrait of a Bird

First, paint a birdcage

with a little opening

then paint

something pretty

something simple

something beautiful

something useful

for the bird

and then place the canvas against a tree

in a garden

in a grove

or in a forest

hide the canvas behind the tree

without saying anything

without moving . . . .

Sometimes the bird will arrive quickly

but he can also spend a few years

before deciding

Do not discourage him

wait

wait even if it takes a few years

whether the bird arrives quickly or very slowly

has no relationship

with the success of the painting

When the bird does arrive

if he arrives

observe him in the most profound silence

wait until he enters the birdcage

and when he has entered

gently close the door with your paintbrush

then

erase, one by one, all the bars of the cage

being ever so careful as to not touch a single feather of the bird

Then paint the tree

only choosing the most beautiful of the branches

for the bird

then paint the green leaves and the cool wind

the dust from the sun

and the little noises of all the insects in the summer heat

and then wait to see if the bird will decide to sing

If the bird does not sing

this is a bad sign -

a sign that your painting is no good

but if he does sing, it is a good sign

a sign that you can sign -

So, very gently, pluck off

one of the bird's feathers

and write your name in the corner of the painting.