The spirit drank the café lights; All the hot life that glittered there, And heard men say to women gay, 'Life is just so in France'. The spirit dreams of café lights, And golden faces and soft tones, And hears men groan to broken men, 'This is not Life in France'. Heaped stones and a charred signboard shows With grass between and dead folk under, And some birds sing, while the spirit takes wing. And this is Life in France. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING IN NEW HAMPSHIRE by CLAUDE MCKAY THEY ACCUSE ME OF NOT TALKING by HAYDEN CARRUTH FREE FANTASIA ON JAPANESE THEMES by AMY LOWELL LA RONDE DU DIABLE by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: YEE BOW by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE |