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Nicolo Sertorio |
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Floating Fire |
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Other |
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30 x 60 in |
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$4,500 |
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Giclee Print: $750
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Translation of poem:
Ah, the day is waning, in the western sky, over the lonely river, the even pinkish glow is fading…ah, when the sun sets, when the sun sets, night will return without fail. I weep alone beneath an apricot tree, but today is the eighth of April, and the sound of a crowd flooding the boulevard betokens festivities to come, so why am I the only one unable to stifle the tears welling up in my heart? Ah, it’s dancing, it’s dancing, the blood red flame, it’s dancing. Peering down from the hushed castle gate, the odor of water, the odor of sand, when the torch, biting the night, biting the sky, as if still hungering, bites and tears at its own flesh, a solitary youth weighted with a darkened heart hurls his blue dream of yesterday into the river, yet will the heartless waves suspend its shadow in the flow?
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