To this inevitable night of mine
Oh you drinker of new wine,
Here's pageantry . . . .
Here's carnival,
Rich dusk, dim streets and all
The whispering of city night . . . .
I shall know you by your eager feet
And by your pale, pale hair;
I'll whisper happy incoherent things
While I'm waiting for you there . . . .
All the faces unforgettable in dusk
Will blend to yours,
And the footsteps like a thousand overtures
Will blend to yours,
And there will be more drunkenness than wine
In the softness of your eyes on mine . . . .
Faint violins where lovely ladies dine,
The brushing of skirts, the voices of the night
And all the lure of friendly eyes . . . . Ah there
We'll drift like summer sounds upon the summer air . . . ."
-F Scott Fitzgerald
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An Echanting Look by Ellen von Unworth, for Vogue Italia December 2000
Rich dusk, dim streets and all
The whispering of city night . . . .
I shall know you by your eager feet
And by your pale, pale hair;
I'll whisper happy incoherent things
While I'm waiting for you there . . . .
All the faces unforgettable in dusk
Will blend to yours,
And the footsteps like a thousand overtures
Will blend to yours,
And there will be more drunkenness than wine
In the softness of your eyes on mine . . . .
Faint violins where lovely ladies dine,
The brushing of skirts, the voices of the night
And all the lure of friendly eyes . . . . Ah there
We'll drift like summer sounds upon the summer air . . . ."
-F Scott Fitzgerald
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