|Self-portrait with a Scarf - Zinaida Serebriakova|
|Before the Storm - Valentina Serebriakova|
the beauty of vanishing
Some say there is a perfume named azure,
and impute to it lavender or frangipani notes;
but, for me, azure plucks at the strings of a harp,
dispersing blue morpho clouds of melody.
|Spruce - Zinaida Serebriakova|
In the garden of the stars her roses bloom,
their fractal filaments attract the bright bees;
the deeper I sink into the earth, the more I hear
their hum in the silence, and taste their honey.
|Evening - Isaac Levitan|