The Photograph

Gustave Courbet
The Origin of the World

The Photograph

In this obscene photograph secretly sold
the policeman mustn't see) around the corner,
in this whorish photograph,
how did such a dream-like face
make its way; How did you get in here?

Who knows what a degrading, vulgar life you lead;
how horrible the surroundings must have been
when you posed to have the picture taken;
what a cheap soul you must have.
But in spite of all this, and even more, you remain for me
the dream-like face, the figure
shaped for and dedicated to Hellenic love—
that's how you remain for me
and how my poetry speaks of you.

~ Constantine P. Cavafy ~

Love One Another

Marc Chagall

Lovers in Gray

Love One Another

Love one another, but make not a bond of love

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup, but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous,

but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone

though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping;

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together;

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

~ Kahlil Gibran ~

Bright Star

Frederic Edwin Chruch

The Star in the East

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient sleepless eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors;

No yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever or else swoon to death.

~ John Keats ~

Annabel Lee

Claude Monet

The Sea at Fecamp

Annabel Lee (1849)

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;--

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

She was a child and I was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love--

I and my Annabel Lee--

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud by night

Chilling my Annabel Lee;

So that her high-born kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me:--

Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling

And killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we--

Of many far wiser than we-

And neither the angels in Heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea--

In her tomb by the side of the sea.

~ Edgar Allen Poe ~

Francisca

Juliet Margeret Cameron

Call and I Will Follow

Francisca

Francisca walks in the shadow of night,

But it is not to gaze on the heavenly light --

But if she sits in her garden bower,

'Tis not for the sake of its blowing flower.

She listens -- but not for the nightingale --

Though her ear expects as soft a tale.

There winds a step through the foliage thick,

And her cheek grows pale--and her heart beats quick.

There whispers a voice thro' the rustling leaves,

A moment more--and they shall meet--

'Tis past--her Lover's at her feet.

~ Lord Byron ~

Your Laughter

Robert Henri

Reclining Nude (Barbara Brown)

Your Laughter

Take bread away from me, if you wish,

take air away, but

do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,

the lanceflower that you pluck,

the water that suddenly

bursts forth in your joy,

the sudden waveof silver born you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back

with eyes tired

at times from having seen

the unchanging earth,

but when your laughter enters

it rises to the sky seeking me

and it opens for me all

the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest

hour your laughter

opens, and if suddenly

you see my blood staining

the stones of the street,

laugh, because your laughter

will be for my hands

like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,

your laughter must raise

its foamy cascade,

and in the spring, love

I want your laughter like

the flower I was waiting for,

the blue flower, the rose

of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night

at the day, at the moon,

laugh at the twisted

streets of the island,

laugh at the clumsy

boy who loves you,

but when I open

my eyes and close them,

when my steps go,

when my steps return,

deny me bread, air,

light, spring,

but never your laughter

for I would die.

~ Pablo Neruda ~

Sometimes with One I Love

Karel van Mander

Garden of Love

Sometimes with One I Love

Sometimes with one I love

I fill myself with rage for fear I effuse unreturn'd love,

But now I think there is no unreturn'd love,

the pay is certain one way or another,

(I loved a certain person ardently and my love was not return'd,

Yet out of that I have written these songs.)

~ Walt Whitman ~

Could Have You

Camille Pissarro

Bather in the Woods

Could Have You

If my breath could catch you
Let my lungs burst with your air

If my eyes could sketch you
Let them close on your lines

If my mouth could drink you
Let your waters stream from my every pore

If my heart could have you
Let my blood laugh at its luck

~ Greg Moglia ~

Snowflake

Ed Watson

The Moment

Snowflake

Timing's everything. The vapor rises

high in the sky, tossing to and fro,

then freezes, suddenly, and crystallizes

into a perfect flake of miraculous snow.

For countless miles, drifting east above

the world, whirling about in a swirling free

-for-all, appearing aimless, just like love,

but sensing, seeking out, its destiny.

Falling to where the two young skaters stand,

hand in hand, then flips and dips and whips

itself about to ever-so-gently land,

a miracle, across her unkissed lips:

as he blocks the wind raging from the south,

leaning forward to kiss her lovely mouth.

~William Baer ~

Fannie

Frank Russell Green

Lady with a Pink Rose

Fannie

Fannie has the sweetest foot

Ever in a gaiter boot!

And the hoyden knows it,

And, of course, she shows it-

Not the knowledge, but the foot-

Yet with such a modest grace,

Never seems it out of place,

Ah, there are not many

Half so sly, or sad, or mad,

Or wickeder than Fannie.

Fannie has the blackest hair

Of any of the village girls;

It does not shower on her neck

In silken or coquettish curls.

It droops in folds around her brow,

As clouds, at night, around the moon,

Looped with lilies here and there,

In many a dangerous festoon.

And Fannie wears a gipsy hat,

Saucily-yes, all of that!

Ah, there are not many

Half so sly, or sad, or mad,

Or wickeder than Fannie.

Fannie wears an open dress-

Ah! the charming chemisette!

Half concealing, half revealing

Something far more charming yet.

Fannie draper her breast with lace,

As one would drape a costly vase

To keep away mischevious flies;

But lace can't keep away one's eyes,

For every time her bosom heaves,

Ah, it peepeth through it;

Yet Fannie looks the while as if

Never once she knew it.

Ah, there are not many

Half so sly, or sad, or mad,

Or innocent than Fannie.

Fannie lays her hand in mine;

Fannie speaks with naivete,

Fannie kisses me, she does!

In her own coquettish way.

Then softly speaks and deeply sighs,

With angels nestled in her eyes.

In the merrie month of May,

Fannie swears sincerely

She will be my own wife,

And love me dearly, dearly

Ever after all her life.

Ah, there are not many

Half so sly, or sad, or mad,

As my true-hearted Fannie.

~ Thomas Bailey Aldrich ~

The Three Sisters

Tsuguharu Foujitu

Children and Doll

The Three Sisters

Gone are the three, those sisters rare
With wonder-lips and eyes ashine.
One was wise and one was fair,
And one was mine.

Ye mourners, weave for the sleeping hair
Of only two, your ivy vine.
For one was wise and one was fair,
But one was mine.

~ Arthur Davison Ficke ~

The Three Sisters

Tsuguharu Foujitu

Children and Doll

The Three Sisters

Gone are the three, those sisters rare
With wonder-lips and eyes ashine.
One was wise and one was fair,
And one was mine.

Ye mourners, weave for the sleeping hair
Of only two, your ivy vine.
For one was wise and one was fair,
But one was mine.

~ Arthur Davison Ficke ~

Passing Remark

Amedeo Modigliani

The Red Haired Girl

Passing Remark

In scenery I like flat country.
In life I don’t like much to happen.

In personalities I like mild colorless people.
And in colors I prefer gray and brown.

My wife, a vivid girl from the mountains,
says, “Then why did you choose me?”

Mildly I lower my brown eyes—
there are so many things admirable people do not understand.

~ William Stafford ~

Love

Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Portrait of a Young Girl

Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Irene Cahen D’Anvers

Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming

Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.

I have forgotten your face, I no longer

Remember your hands; how did your lips

Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues

Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that

Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;

I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to

My vague memory of you. I live with pain

That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will

Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing

Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to

Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of

Summer pain me; because of you, I again

Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:

Shooting stars, falling objects.

~ Pablo Neruda ~

Life in a Love

Egon Schiele

Portrait of Eduard Kosmack

Life in a Love

Escape me?

Never—

Beloved!

While I am I, and you are you,

So long as the world contains us both,

Me the loving and you the loth,

While the one eludes, must the other pursue.

My life is a fault at last, I fear:

It seems too much like a fate, indeed!

Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.

But what if I fail of my purpose here?

It is but to keep the nerves at strain,

To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,

And baffled, get up to begin again,—

So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.

While, look but once from your farthest bound,

At me so deep in the dust and dark,

No sooner the old hope drops to ground

Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,

I shape me—

Ever
Removed!

~ Robert Browning ~

Romance

Mónica Ozámiz Fortis

Lovers

Romance

To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed,

Scented and warm against my beating breast;

To whisper soft and quivering your name,

And drink the passion burning in your frame;

To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek,

And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak

Love words, mad words, dream words, sweet senseless words,

Melodious like notes of mating birds;

To hear you ask if I shall love always,

And myself answer: Till the end of days;

To feel your easeful sigh of happiness

When on your trembling lips I murmur: Yes;

It is so sweet. We know it is not true.

What matters it? The night must shed her dew.

We know it is not true, but it is sweet --

The poem with this music is complete.

~ Claude McKay ~

Love Equals Swift and Slow

Lovis Corinth

Self Portrait with His Wife and a Glass of Champagne

Love Equals Swift and Slow

Love equals swift and slow,
And high and low,
Racer and lame,
The hunter and his game.

~ Henry David Thoreau ~

Meeting Point

Edward Hopper

Chop Suey

Meeting Point

Time was away and somewhere else,

There were two glasses and two chairs

And two people with the one pulse

(Somebody stopped the moving stairs)

Time was away and somewhere else.

And they were neither up nor down;

The stream's music did not stop

Flowing through heather, limpid brown,

Although they sat in a coffee shop

And they were neither up nor down.

The bell was silent in the air

Holding its inverted poise -

Between the clang and clang a flower,

A brazen calyx of no noise:

The bell was silent in the air.

The camels crossed the miles of sand

That stretched around the cups and plates;

The desert was their own, they planned

To portion out the stars and dates:

The camels crossed the miles of sand.

Time was away and somewhere else.

The waiter did not come, the clock

Forgot them and the radio waltz

Came out like water from a rock:

Time was away and somewhere else.

Her fingers flicked away the ash

That bloomed again in tropic trees:

Not caring if the markets crash

When they had forests such as these,

Her fingers flicked away the ash.

God or whatever means the Good

Be praised that time can stop like this,

That what the heart has understood

Can verify in the body's peace

God or whatever means the Good.

Time was away and she was here

And life no longer what it was,

The bell was silent in the air

And all the room one glow because

Time was away and she was here.

~ Louis MacNeice ~

Early Affection

Lily Martin Spencer

We Both Must Fade

Early Affection

I lov'd thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray,
And will, until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles and tears remember me.

I'll love thee when thy morn is past,
And wheedling gallantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in ages blast,
And beauty can ascend no more,
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O, then look back and think of me.

I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
'Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light,
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight,
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still, a moment wait for me.

I'll love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd,
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade,
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.

~ George Moses Horton ~

Chance Meetings

Guy Pène du Bois

People

Chance Meetings

In the mazes of loitering people, the watchful and furtive,
The shadows of tree-trunks and shadows of leaves,
In the drowse of the sunlight, among the low voices,
I suddenly face you,

Your dark eyes return for a space from her who is with you,
They shine into mine with a sunlit desire,
They say an 'I love you, what star do you live on?'
They smile and then darken,

And silent, I answer 'You too--I have known you,--I love you!--'
And the shadows of tree-trunks and shadows of leaves
Interlace with low voices and footsteps and sunlight
To divide us forever.

~ Conrad Aiken ~