To a Melancholy Beauty (after Ivan Kozlov)
Upon the silent vale and shadowed wood
The moon pours down her gentle, silver light;
The beauty of the midnight heavens glides
Serene among the ever-watchful stars.
And Love, enchanted, lifts its gaze to her—
More radiant than the sweetest memory.
Yet close behind, a darkening cloud gives chase,
And slowly dims that dear celestial glow.
Paper, pastel, acrylic marker, sepia.