DARK PAINTERS

FELICIEN ROPS (1833-1898.) BORN IN NAMUR. BELGIAN ARTIST AND PRINT MAKER.

FERNAND KHNOPFF (1858-1921) BORN IN EASTERN FLANDERS. BELGIAN SYMBOLIST PAINTER

LEON SPILLIAERT (1881-1946)  BORN IN OOSTENDE.  BELGIAN SYMBOLIST PAINTER AND GRAPHIC ARTIST.

RENE MAGRITTE (1898-1967)  BORN IN LESSINS.  BELGIAN SURREALIST PAINTER.

WHAT WAS THE CRIME?
I CAN'T RECALL
MUST BE SOME TRIFLE
A THING SO SMALL,
THAT CAN'T DISSOLVE
THE MIRTH I FEEL
NOR MELT MY HEART
OF ANCIENT STEEL.








 
















TEMPTATION COMES
WITH MUFFLED STEPS
IT COILS AND COILS
WITHIN YOUR DEPTHS
TRANSFORMING LUST,
VICES AND SINS,
IN JOYS AND BLISS.
SURRENDERED KISS
IN WANTON LIPS,
ABANDONED GUILTS
IN OPENED LIMBS.
FEEBLE AND FRAIL
THE BODIES ARCHED
AGAINST THE GALE
BEFORE THEY FALL
INTO THE ABYSS.

WHEN THE DEVIL SOWS
THE FROST BEGINS
THE DARKEST NIGHT
COVERS YOUR SLEEP.
NIGHTMARES DEVELOP
UNUSUAL TWISTS
(MONSTERS ON HORSEBACK
OR DWARFS WITH WHIPS)
THAT LEAVE YOU
EXHAUSTED
WITH STRESSING DEEDS.
AND WHEN AWAKE,
YOU STILL PRESERVE
THAT FRIGHTENING
FEELING
OF LIFE AMISS, 
THE SINFULL DEALINGS
THAT QUENCH YOUR NERVES.
BEWARE!
THE TIME
OF DEVIL'S HARVEST
COMES UNEXPECTED.
AND STRIKES THE HARDEST.

FERNAND KHNOPFF

OH!..THE CARESS!
SHE LIGHTLY STROKES
MY WITHERED BROW
WITH VELVET CLAWS.
I LEAN AGAINST
HER SENSUOUS BREAST
AND BEND MY HEAD
TO LOVE...AND REST.

DON'T LOOK AT ME !

I DON'T WANT TO DIE
NOR TASTE YOUR BLOOD.
WILL, CLOSES MY EYES.
I BEG YOU...LEAVE!
I WILL ABIDE
WITH YOUR PRIMAL
SOURCE OF WICKEDNESS,
AND THEN ,FORGIVE.

LEON SPILLIAERT

THE NIGHT
WILL FALL INTO THE SEA.
I LOOK FOR YOU
DEEP IN THE HORIZON.
NOWHERE TO BE SEEN
YOUR TURQUOISE EYES,
THE SECRETIVE SMILE, 
YOUR FULL LIPS
POUTING AT THE FUTURE.
I LONG FOR YOU
WHILE I TRY TO DISCERN
WHAT WENT WRONG.
PAST ERRORS
ARE DIGGING MY SOLITUDE
IN THE SAND,
WHILE THE WAVES
WASH AWAY
ALL TRACES OF HOPE.

RENE MAGRITTE

LOVE IS BLIND.
THE TRUTH
IS TRAPPED
INSIDE YOUR MIND.
SMALL MISTAKES
ARE LEFT BEHIND.
DON'T WANT TO SEE,
YOU JUST DIVINE. 
RELEASE 
YOUR BANDAGES,
LEAVE THEM BEHIND 
AND WEEP THE TRUTH
FOR LOVE IS BLIND.

                        I SMELL THE PERFUME OF LUST
                        DARK AND HUMID
                        MUSK, HOT AND TORRID.
                        EVERLASTING FLOWERS
                        OF DWELLINGS DOOMED TO DARKNESS.
                        I BEND OVER THE ABYSS
                        FOR I PERCEIVE YOUR COMING.
                        THE BLOSSOMS OF YOUR HAIR
                        CONSENTING MY BELIEFS
                        AND MY DESPAIR








POEMS: E.de C.