Forgetting her mauve vows the Fania fled,
Taking away her moonlight scarves with her —
There was no joy left in the calendar,
And life was but an orchid that was dead.
Even our pious peacocks went unfed —
I had deserved no treachery like this,
For I had bitten sharp kiss after kiss
Devoutly, till her sleek young body bled.
Then Carlo came; he shone like a new sin —
Straightway I knew pearl-powder still was sweet,
And that my bleeding heart would not be scarred.
I sought a shop where shoes were sold within,
And for three hundred francs made brave my feet,
And then I danced along the boulevard!