Symphony in White No. 2
by Whistler James
.
.
Victorian Boredom. By Bluewind
But, what absurdity is that,
the withering face en face in the mirror
A face not mine belong
reflected faithfully through the looking glass.
Am I not the appropriate, respectable
contented lady of the Victorian era?
Graceful white dresses, peaceful expressions
fanning myself with a fan of Japanese hues?
showing the riches of my husband,
displaying the affections he has for me?
Yet, what face is that in the mirror?
Of hunger, of desires and wistfulness
neglected and suppressed for centuries.
Yet I shall not ponder further.
For thinking futher makes days longer.
I shall burry myself in household chores,
Until his footsteps readily heard at the foyers.
As for the face, I shall forget.
Dimly, in my memory, will it fade.
But, what absurdity is that,
the withering face en face in the mirror
A face not mine belong
reflected faithfully through the looking glass.
Am I not the appropriate, respectable
contented lady of the Victorian era?
Graceful white dresses, peaceful expressions
fanning myself with a fan of Japanese hues?
showing the riches of my husband,
displaying the affections he has for me?
Yet, what face is that in the mirror?
Of hunger, of desires and wistfulness
neglected and suppressed for centuries.
Yet I shall not ponder further.
For thinking futher makes days longer.
I shall burry myself in household chores,
Until his footsteps readily heard at the foyers.
As for the face, I shall forget.
Dimly, in my memory, will it fade.
No comments:
Post a Comment