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BERTHE MORISOT by Edouard Manet and Salvatore Buttaci


                                   BERTHE MORISOT                      Painting by Edouard Manet (1873)                      Poem by Salvatore Buttaci  (1994) "Too  much yellow!" I tell the painter. "You've made me out to appear  some pasty-looking, half-dead matron who has never seen the sun! Devotees of art one day  will stand before this canvas and wonder: 'Did Madame Morisot have a heart of wax to match the sallowness of her face?'"   Where will I be then to defend myself? Long dead, no doubt, somewhere in the other world where the shade of one's complexion will certainly not be the local gossip, nor a discussion tète à tète  about the worthiness of Manet's work.   So all I mean to say I shall...
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PAiNTING POEM: THE WOMAN IN GLOVES by SALVATORE BUTTACI


THE WOMAN IN GLOVES (LA FEMME AUX GANTS) by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1891)   What is going through the mind of the woman in gloves? What is she thinking about the man she loved, the man who abandoned her?  THE WOMAN IN GLOVES I have not  blinked an eyesince his train left Paris!Outside the compartment windowthis moment finds him, I'm sure,staring, too:the white stone farm housesand the rows of trees rushingbackwards in pale-green blursas if pulled back by time's cruel handor by the hand of a sulking childwho takes his toys away and goes home. The simile does him justice.Still another simile comes to mind:Jacques the spoiled child;Jacques the unforgettable melodynagging at my memory. But then it pains me to admitamong the playthings he's taken with himare velvet-soft pieces of my heart,summer sighs, my promises,the gifts I gave him on love afternoons,all those dreams. In the garden now it is rainingas though what is left of mecries out...
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