Show A poets tomb under my eyes wrote mistral in his vein of antique tolerance 1 I seo see tho the inclosure and the walto domo ot oc where like the snails I 1 shall hall lie ho hid in the gentle shade supreme effort of our pride to escape voracious aimel this forbids not that yesterday or today quickly Is changed into a long forgetfulness and when people ask of john 0 figs of john the faltered galt ernd ered what Is IB this dome they will reply the tomb of tho the poet a poet who made songs for a beautiful provencal maid called Al freffle they are ara like bosqui mosquitoes inoes in the Ca margue scat far and wide but he be lived in maillane Mal Ma llano Illane and the old men of the countryside have seen been him walking in our paths and then one day they will say eay its he whom they had chosen king ol of provence but his name lives no more save in the song of the brown crickets at last at tho the end of their knowledge they will bay any the tha tomb of a magician for of a 16 rayed star tho the monument wears the image the century |