Thursday, May 26, 2011

A mask.
Pencils on paper.


Sleep, darling
I have a small
daughter called
Cleis, who is

like a golden
I wouldn't
take all Croesus'
kingdom with love
thrown in, for her


Don't ask me what to wear
I have no embroidered
headband from Sardis to
give you, Cleis, such as
I wore
and my mother
always said that in her
day a purple ribbon
looped in the hair was thought
to be high style indeed

but we were dark:
a girl
whose hair is yellower than
torchlight should wear no
headdress but fresh flowers

tr. Barnard

Friday, May 6, 2011

The eyes.
Acrylics on Wood.

Days of 1903

I never found them again -- the things so quickly lost....
the poetic eyes, the pale
face.... in the dusk of the street....

I never found them again -- the things acquired quite by chance,
that I gave up so lightly;
and that later in agony I wanted.
The poetic eyes, the pale face,
those lips, I never found again.

Constantine P. Cavafy (1917)

Sunday, May 1, 2011


Wave .
Mixed media on paper.

* * *

A Rose

A rose. Its own fragrance is its home

And the breeze its bed.

* * *


(Translated By Hassan Hilmy)