This unfortunated statue dreamed that it had a human heart, prisoner in the bronze. And the summers heat lit its heart and it began to throb.
Then, the statue forgot its deep thoughts which it caviled and it felt that bronze smelted. Bronze was bland, until a liquid similar to blood began to circulate through its entire body. And mineral became muscle and bones...
Since its pedestal at La place du Les'Invalides the statue had seen the Paris transients passing all the mornings. Suddenly, "he" had enormous desires for running. So that "The thinker" descended from its pedestal with a jump and fell to the herb.
Wow, it was new! "He" could feel the herb's texture under his feet! He looked forward, the avenue. He wanted to run toward people, to catch up with the beautiful women who should admire his sculptural body...
Hey, wait a minute! forlorn statue, your dream is mine now, I've stole it! Not even in your dreams you'll can enamoring to these pretty French women.
You are condemned to contemplate them since your stonen pedestal for ever!
Hahahahah!