"C'est le repos éclairé, ni fièvre ni langueur, sur le lit ou sur le pré.
C'est l'ami ni ardent ni faible. L'ami.
C'est l'aimée ni tourmentante ni tourmentée. L'aimée.
L'air et le monde point cherchés. La vie.
- Etait-ce donc ceci?
- Et le rêve fraîchit."

(It is a repose in the light, neither fever nor langour, on the bed or on the meadow.
It is the friend neither violent nor weak. The friend.
It is the beloved neither tormenting nor tormented. The beloved.
Air and the world not sought. Life.
- Was it really this?
- And the dream grew cold.)


I wrote these lines on her card which totally define my intangible, innermost feelings when I see her. I'm very fond of her.


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A portrait by John Singer Sargent of Mrs. Fiske-Warren 1900