on sale

 

title. anna on the silk road, 240 miles from samarkand

size. 60 x 60 cm

acrylic on linen

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The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit,

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

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But helpless pieces in the game He plays,

Upon this chequer-board of Nights and Days,

He hither and thither moves, and checks... and slays,

Then one by one, back in the Closet lays.

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And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before

The Tavern shouted - "Open then the Door!

You know how little time we have to stay,

And once departed, may return no more."

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Omar Khayyám

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