<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366099" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Galatea (a riff)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What perfection in eye and cheek, <br>She shifts her body, I cannot speak, <br>Her back's soft light of muscled bone<br>That I would frame in marble stone; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What arrogance in handheld tool<br>That I could take what's learned in school<br>And reproduce her subtle beauty<br>Oh Pygmalion, you fail in duty.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With grace she moves to part the curtain, <br>In dusky light she stands uncertain<br>To check the time she has to pose, <br>What innocence denied of clothes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh Artist here stands your Art<br>With breathing lips, a beating heart, <br>She turns to me, head over shoulder, <br>Complains to me, the room's grown colder.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I take an iron and stoke the coals, <br>How burns the furnace of my soul, <br>Oh I would warm her in my arms, <br>Would violation arouse alarm? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But she resumes her model perch, <br>Her innocence I would not besmirch, <br>But I am poor and ill-equipped<br>To carve the ivory of her hip.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her perfection stalls my hand<br>It overcomes my code as man, <br>I kneel before her radiant beauty<br>And as an artist forget my duty</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+McLansky">David McLansky</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366099" data-title="Galatea (a riff) de David McLansky" data-description="What perfection in eye and cheek, She shifts her body, I cannot speak, Her back's soft light of muscled bone That I would frame in marble stone; What arrogance in handheld tool That I could take what's learned in school And reproduce her subtl..."></div> </div> </div>

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