Tag: Vivienne Mok

La Petite Danseuse

Even this heart of mine has something artificial. The dancers have sewn it into a bag of pink satin, pink satin slightly faded, like their dancing shoes. – Edgar Degas –

When on a Summer’s Morn I wake

When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. […] And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in my room alone, My heart has many a sweet bird’s song And one that’s all my own. – William Henry Davies –

Ode to Autumn

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue – John Keats – To Autumn –

To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent’s art

Behold, this crocus is a withering flame; This snowdrop, snow; this apple-blossom’s part To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent’s art. Nay, for these Spring-flowers, turn thy face from them, Nor gaze till on the year’s last lily-stem The white cup shrivels round the golden heart. – Dante Gabriel Rossetti – Barren Spring –

It will rise in perfect light

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. – Sarah Williams – The Old Astronomer –

La Chambre Bleue

When I awoke, I was alone, in a small, simple room […] walls covered with printed Jouy cottons […] Alas ! I was not long to realise that I had not dreamed! I was trapped and I could not leave my room […] I saw on my dresser a note in red ink … – […]

Céladon

Celadon refers to both a colour and a type of glaze typical to China (Chinese: qingci青瓷, literally “green porcelain”) and the Far East. This green or translucent blue-gray glaze is especially popular in Asia, as it replicates the color of jade, the sacred stone.

Umibe no Onnanoko

This town had a small beach that doesn’t get much traffic, even in summer, and I used to enjoy walking along it, looking for stuff. Burn-out fireworks, seaweed, a child’s hat blown off by the wind… I hardly ever found what I was looking for, but maybe I never really expected to find anything in […]

Telle que tu naquis dans la lumière hellène

Just the way you were born in the Hellenic light You stir up the sea, you make the primrose blush, The spinning universe ennivrers at your breath And the womb of a child shelters you entirely. – Pierre Louÿs – Aphrodite –

The girl in a white dress

The girl in a white dress […] was turned away, but he knew her at once by the poise of the fair tilted head, and began running towards her with the sickening fear that she would be gone, as invariably happened in his troubled dreams. He was almost within touching distance of her muslin skirts […]

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