From the crowd passing on the street,
The well of noise which struck the spring
Roars forth like its northern cousin,
The great Niagara, shouting down
The ones who come beneath its spray.
No soul stands out, though some dress up.
What is the droplet to the roar?
All pass into the waters flow
Save one old man in rags
Whose music passes through the crowd
And looks into your eyes.
Inspired by The Old Musician by Edouard Manet