❁ A collection of art ❁
'Ida Reading a Letter' by Vilhelm Hammershoi
'Vanitas' by Cornelis Norbertus Gysbrechts
'When first the vernal morn of life' by Ann Radcliffe
When first the vernal morn of life,
Beam'd on my infant eye,
Fond I survey'd the smiling scene,
Nor saw the tempest nigh,
Hope's bright illusions touch'd my soul,
My yound ideas led;
And Fancy's vivid tints combine'd,
And fairy prospects spread.
My guileless heart expanded wide,
With filial fondness fraught;
Paternal love that heart supplied
With all its fondness sought.
But O! the cruel, quick reverse!
Fate all I lov'd involv'd;
Pale Grief Hope's trembling rays dispers'd,
And Fancy's dreams dissolv'd."
'The Angelus' by Jean-Francois Millet
'Sappho Leaping into the Sea from the Leucadian Promontory' by Theodore Chasseriau (1840)
'Fragment 105(c)' by Sappho
O my mountain hyacinth
What shepherds trod upon you?
With clumsy, rustic foot?
Now you are a broken seal:
A scarlet stain upon the Earth.
'Dancing Figure (Kamuro)' by Kaoru Kawano (1960)
'Homenagem a Fernão Mendes Pinto' by Antonio Areal (1957)
'Edge' by Sylvia Plath
The woman is perfected.
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.
Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little
Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded
Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden
Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.
The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.
'The Miracle of the silence' by Toshiko Okanoue
'The Black Sun' by Odilon Redon (1900)
'Letters to a Stranger (III)' by Thomas James
Alexander died this morning,
Leaving his worldly possessions
To the strongest.
I watched an empire fade across his lips.
They propped him in the sun a while,
And then three women came to scour his body
Like a continent.
I am afraid of what the world will do.
Only this afternoon
I heard two worms conversing
In the shadow of his breastbone.
I slipped out of the palace
And entered a vein of gillyflowers
On the edge of potter’s field.
I will not be missed.
No one even noticed.
'The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters' by Francisco De Goya (1799)
'The Death of the Gravedigger' by Carlos Schwabe (1895)
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Before us great Death stands
Our fate held close within his quiet hands.
When with proud joy we lift Life’s red wine
To drink deep of the mystic shining cup
And ecstasy through all our being leaps—
Death bows his head and weeps.
'The Magic Circle' by John William Waterhouse (1886)
'Golconda' by Rene Magritte (1953)
'If I should die' by Emily Dickinson
If I should die,
And you should live,
And time should gurgle on,
And morn should beam,
And noon should burn,
As it has usual done;
If birds should build as early,
And bees as bustling go,–
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
‘Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with daisies lie,
That commerce will continue,
And trades as briskly fly.
It make the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene,
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
'Ophelia Drowning' by Paul Albert Steck (1895)
'Lost in Her Dreams' by Friedrich von Amerling (1835)
'Guernica' by Pablo Picasso (1937)
'The Irritating Gentleman' by Berthold Woltze (1874)
'Apparition of Face and Fruit Dish on a Beach' by Salvador Dalí (1938)
'Exploding Raphaelesque Head' by Salvaor Dalí (1951)
'The Persistence of Memory' by Salvaor Dalí (1931)
'Hope' by George Frederic Watts (1886)
'The Sick Child' by Edvard Munch (1896)
'La Reproduction Interdite' by Rene Margrite (1937)