The sheets on this bed are damp.
The radiator doesn’t work.
I cannot sleep at night, there is so much noise.
I have lost my keys.
I cannot open my case.
It doesn’t work.
Excuse me, sir, that seat is mine.
I cannot find my ticket!
That man is following me everywhere.
There has been an accident!
Someone robbed me.
He has lost consciousness.
I feel sick. The noise is terrible.
I did not know that I had to pay.
I am lost. He is losing blood.
From Collins’ Pocket Interpreters: France, 1937.
Verbatim Poetry 