Glint

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Vincent

@Livresvangogh·
Kırmızı Şapkalı vs İnci Küpeli
“Bu tablo, Jan Vermeer'in (1632-1675) ünlü olduğu sakin iç mekan sahnelerini ürettiği döneme ait. Böylesine küçük bir tablo için görsel etkisi büyük. Vermeer'in İnci Küpeli Kız tablosunda olduğu gibi, dudakları şehvetli bir şekilde aralanmış bir kız, yüzünden ve küpelerinden yansıyan ışıltılarla omzunun üzerinden izleyiciye bakıyor." 1001 Paintings Must See Before You Die s.271 This painting belongs to the period when Jan Vermeer (1632-75) produced the tranquil interior scenes for which he is famed. For such a small painting, this has great visual impact. Like Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring, a girl with sensuously parted lips looks over her shoulder at the viewer while highlights glint off her face and earrings.
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yaren

@cluu·
"If the glint in my eye traced the depths of your sigh Down that passage in time Back to the moment I crashed into you Like so many wrecks do Too impaired by my youth To know what to do"
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Krizantem

@LacivertKrizantem·
Is that too much to ask?...
He's eyes narrow, a dark glint flashing in them. "Oh, you really are asking for it, pet. You just don't know when to stop, do you?" Without warning, his hand grips her jaw tightly. "You're mine to discipline, pet. And I intend to show you exactly what happens when you disrespect your superiors." He brings his lips close to hers, their breath mingling. "You will learn to kneel before me, my pet. And you'll soon realize that I am the master of control."
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NuraN

@Minthe·
“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov “Bana ayın parladığını söyleme; bana kırık camdaki ışığın parıltısını göster.”

lenchen

@artiwass·
and some alert: glint, glance and flirt.

Can

@alintilarlayashiyorum·
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep-Mary Elizabeth Frye in the 1930s
İnstagram hesabımda bu şiiri türkçe altyazılı olarak paylaştım. Aşağıdaki linkten ulaşabilirsiniz: instagram.com/p/CTcoQjNnmMq/?... Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you wake in the morning hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die!
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