Auric, Milhaud, Poulenc, Tailleferre, Honegger

I’ve placed your bouquet in water of one vase,

And fondly twined you together at the base,

All free to choose the path you take in air.

Now, each spangling with other fires its stem,

That lets fall furthermore its musical cradle,

One day I’ll be refused the glory then

Of being the nocturnal guardian of the bundle.

I don’t ape the rose and its sure-set dart,

Gluttonously drawing the nightingale’s blood,

And show the deep formula from my heart,

So that these friends may take flight as they should.

Jean Cocteau