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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428911" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Night-Scented Stock</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">White, white in the milky night<br>The moon danced over a tree.<br>"Wouldn't it be lovely to swim in the lake!"<br>Someone whispered to me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Oh, do-do-do!" cooed someone else,<br>And clasped her hands to her chin.<br>"I should so love to see the white bodies--<br>All the white bodies jump in!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The big dark house hid secretly<br>Behind the magnolia and the spreading pear-tree;<br>But there was a sound of music--music rippled and ran<br>Like a lady laughing behind her fan,<br>Laughing and mocking and running away...<br>"Come into the garden--it's as light as day!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I can't dance to that Hungarian stuff,<br>The rhythm in it is not passionate enough,"<br>Said somebody. "I absolutely refuse...."<br>But he took off his socks and his shoes<br>And round he spun. "It's like Hungarian fruit dishes<br>Hard and bright--a mechanical blue!"<br>His white feet flicked in the grass like fishes...<br>Someone cried: "I want to dance, too!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But one with a queer Russian ballet head<br>Curled up on a blue wooden bench instead.<br>And another, shadowy--shadowy and tall--<br>Walked in the shadow of the dark house wall,<br>Someone beside her. It shone in the gloom,<br>His round grey hat, like a wet mushroom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Don't you think perhaps..." piped someone's flute.<br>"How sweet the flowers smell!" I heard the other say.<br>Somebody picked a wet, wet pink,<br>Smelled it and threw it away.<br>"Is the moon a virgin or is she a harlot?"<br>Asked somebody. Nobody would tell.<br>The faces and the hands moved in a pattern<br>As the music rose and fell,<br>In a dancing, mysterious, moon-bright pattern<br>Like flowers nodding under the sea...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The music stopped and there was nothing left of them<br>But the moon dancing over the tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Katherine+Mansfield">Katherine Mansfield</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=428911" data-title="Night-Scented Stock de Katherine Mansfield" data-description="White, white in the milky night The moon danced over a tree. "Wouldn't it be lovely to swim in the lake!" Someone whispered to me. "Oh, do-do-do!" cooed someone else, And clasped her hands to her chin. "I should so love t..."></div> </div> </div>
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