Christian, Satine, and the lot are Baz Luhrmann's. Nature Boy was written by Eben Ahbez.
The Moulin Rouge. Christian had never wanted to look on that accursed place again after - after Satine had died, so many years ago. So many years ago, but the pain of that loss was still as sharp as ever within his heart, like a dagger that could never be dislodged. He didn't even want it to be; as long as that horrible aching lived within him Satine would never be forgotten. And he could never allow his memories of his diamond, his love, his very life fade into obscurity, into the darkness of his brain. And so he stood before the run-down facade of the once-colorful nightclub, bracing himself. And then he went in.
Stood on the stage where she had breathed her last, had told him that she loved him with her dying breath. All the color, the vibrancy, the energy that had made the Moulin Rouge seem like such a magical, wonderful place had long since vanished, leaving only a tired, broken-up shell avoided by almost everyone. The energy of the Bohemian Revolution had long since washed out of Montmartre, now it was a sad, hopeless place that truly deserved the title Village of Sin; Christian often found himself wondering why he continued to stay in his tiny room looking out over - the club. But of course he knew the answer; it was because of her. This was where he had met her, loved her, lost her; it was sacred because of all they had shared there. He just couldn't bring himself to leave it all, bury it in the past.
He walked slowly to the very spot where he'd held her lifeless body in his arms. He shut his eyes and could almost see the performers gathered around them, the white and red rose petals on the floor, hear the muted clapping from behind the curtain. Her tiny whisper. I love you.
A single tear trailed down his cheek, squeezing out from under his closed eyelid as the memories took hold of him.
At last he reached into his tattered coat, took out a copy of his story. Their story. The story that Satine had told him to write as her last request. He put it on the cold floor, covered it with a single red rose. And walked away, out through the swinging doors and under the decrepit windmill, never to return again.
There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far,
Over land and sea
And then one day, one magic day he passed my way
This he said to me
The greatest thing you'll learn is just to love and be loved in return