Beau Soir

When the sun sets
The rivers turn pink
And a warm shiver
Runs through the wheat fields
A piece of advice to be happy
Seems to rise from the things
And reach the troubled heart
A suggestion to savor the charm
Of being in the world
While we're still young
And the evening is beautiful
For we are leaving
Just like that wave:
It goes to the sea
We go to the grave