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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422577" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>By Candlelight</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">the real child comes out<br>in the dark<br>little creatures<br>run all over the wall<br>by the candle<br>the children scream, laugh <br>trying to outdo each other<br>the flickering light<br>that makes their dream<br>come true<br>dogs, cats and mouse<br>large and small<br>all over the wall<br>the children yelp, meow<br>jump in delight<br>our fine children<br>cast light on us<br>about their world <br>in that one blackout<br>animals we thought should<br>be in the fields<br>run all over the wall<br>with one lone candle<br>that illuminates<br>the children's roar of triumph</div><div style="margin:10px 0">inspired by</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By Candlelight<br>This is winter, this is night, small love -<br>A sort of black horsehair, <br>A rough, dumb country stuff<br>Steeled with the sheen<br>Of what green stars can make it to our gate.<br>I hold you on my arm.<br>It is very late.<br>The dull bells tongue the hour.<br>The mirror floats us at one candle power.<br>This is the fluid in which we meet each other, <br>This haloey radiance that seems to breathe<br>And lets our shadows wither<br>Only to blow<br>Them huge again, violent giants on the wall.<br>One match scratch makes you real.<br>At first the candle will not bloom at all -<br>It snuffs its bud<br>To almost nothing, to a dull blue dud.<br>I hold my breath until you creak to life, <br>Balled hedgehog, <br>Small and cross. The yellow knife<br>Grows tall. You clutch your bars.<br>My singing makes you roar.<br>I rock you like a boat<br>Across the Indian carpet, the cold floor, <br>While the brass man<br>Kneels, back bent, as best he can<br>Hefting his white pillar with the light<br>That keeps the sky at bay, <br>The sack of black! It is everywhere, tight, tight! <br>He is yours, the little brassy Atlas -<br>Poor heirloom, all you have, <br>At his heels a pile of five brass cannonballs, <br>No child, no wife.<br>Five balls! Five bright brass balls! <br>To juggle with, my love, when the sky falls. <br>Sylvia Plath</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Tiong+Chunghoo">John Tiong Chunghoo</a><div class=q>
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<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=422577" data-title="By Candlelight de John Tiong Chunghoo" data-description="the real child comes out
in the dark
little creatures
run all over the wall
by the candle
the children scream, laugh 
trying to outdo each other
the flickering light
that makes their dream
come true
dogs, cats and mouse
large and small
all over th..."></div>
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