Beauty by Charles Baudelaire (9th April, 1821 – 31st August, 1867)
I am fair, O mortals! like a dream carved in stone,
And my breast where each one in turn has bruised himself
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
As eternal and silent as matter.
On a throne in the sky, a mysterious sphinx,
I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans;
I hate movement for it displaces lines,
And never do I weep and never do I laugh.
Poets, before my grandiose poses,
Which I seem to assume from the proudest statues,
Will consume their lives in austere study;
For I have, to enchant those submissive lovers,
Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal brightness!
Ethereal Maria – A Photograph of Maria Lopukhina (as painted by Vladimir Borovikovsky in 1797) on Painted Panel. The photograph is taken by my brother Dhruba, whereas, the painted panel and the presentation has been created by me.