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1 " Your soul is a chosen landscapeWhere charming masked and costumed figures goPlaying the lute and dancing and almostSad beneath their fantastic disguises.All sing in a minor keyOf all-conquering love and careless fortuneThey do not seem to believe in their happinessAnd their song mingles with the moonlight.The still moonlight, sad and beautiful,Which gives the birds to dream in the treesAnd makes the fountain sprays sob in ecstasy,The tall, slender fountain sprays among the marble statues. "
― Paul Verlaine , Fêtes galantes