门廊上装饰着天竺葵花;桃金娘和茉莉花照亮了草地;与玫瑰和紫罗兰一起，山谷的芬芳凋零到风信子海温柔地梦着的地方……“我得走了，”他说。他用那模糊的、幽灵般的声音说:“我是个歌手;然后是……和天然气。”(我不得不向他俯身，一个字也不能错过。)“我们在格拉斯附近买了这个小咖啡馆;有了阳光和鲜花，我最后的日子就过去了。 "And music too. I have my mandolin: Say! Maybe you can strum on your guitar . . . Come on - we two will make melodious din, While Madame sings to us behind the bar: You'll see how sweet Italian folk-songs are." So he would play and I would thrum the while; I used to there every lovely day; His wife would listen with a sunny smile, And when I left: "Please come again," she'd say. "He seems quite sad when you have one away." Alas! I had to leave without good-bye, And lived in sooty cities for ayear. Oh, how my heart ached for that happy sky! Then, then one day my café I drew near - God! it was strange how I was gripped with fear. So still it was; I saw no mandolin, No gay guitar with ribbons blue and red; Then all in black, stone-faced the wife came in . . . I did not ask; I looked, she shook her head: "La musique est fini," was all she said.