Here are the translations of those beautiful passages from Marcel Pagnol's Le Château de ma Mère. Thank you to Grand-père, Grand-mère, and Daddy for these.
My dear Lili did not come with me to the little cemetery of La Treille, because for years he had waited there, under a patch of Everlasting: in 1917, in a black forest in the North, a bullet in the head had cut his young life, and he fell in the rain, on tufts of cold plants the names of which he did not know…
Such is the life of men. A few joyful moments, quickly erased by unforgettable sorrows.
It is not necessary to tell it to children.
And the second:
But in the arms of a sweet-briar, under bunches of white roses and on the other side of time, there was for years a very young dark woman who always held tightly to her fragile heart the colonel’s red roses. She heard the guard’s calls, and the dog’s hoarse breath. Wan, trembling, and forever inconsolable, she didn’t know that she was at her son’s home.
So very sad and beautiful.