The Seventh Veil
White Carrara marble, Belgium black stone. 70x25x10 cm
Commission for private collection. Vienna, Austria
“Salomé, Salomé, dance for me. I pray thee dance for me. I am sad to-night.”
“Only in mirrors should one look, for mirrors do but show us masks”.
„Well, I still live, but thou art dead, and thy head belongs to me. I can do with it what I will. “
“Salome” Oscar Wild
The veils fell round her like thin coiling mists
Shot through by topaz suns, and amethysts,
And rubies she had on;
And out of them her jewelled body came,
And seemed to all quite like a slender flame
That curled and glided, and that burnt and shone
Most fair to look upon.
And through the swift mesh’d serpents of her hair
That lash’d and leapt on each place white and fair
Of bosom or of arm,
And through the blazing of the numberless
And whirling jewelled fires of her dress,
Her perfect face no passion could disarm
Of its reposeful charm.
Her head oft drooped as in some languid death
Beneath brim tastes of joy, and her rich breath
Heaved faintly from her breast;
Her long eyes, opened fervently and wide,
Did seem with endless rapture to abide
In some fair trance through which the soul possest
Love, ecstasy, and rest.
“The dance of Seven Veils” poem by Arthur O’Shaughnessy