“In her fantastic mood she stretched her soft, clasped hands upward toward the moon. 'Sweet moon,' she said in a kind of mock prayer, 'make your white light come down in music into my dancing-room here, and I will dance… — Barry Pain Copy Share Image
“Whatever jasmines whispered to the breeze, brought sweets to the night, For there it dove, deep into the heart, The rush of scent, the poem of tenderness. Whatever the moon whispered to the breeze, brought blush to this face for… — Jayita Bhattacharjee Copy Share Image
