Ossias Beert the Elder
"Still Life with Oysters," 1602–1610

O, frozen in ice,
you beneath a moonlit lemon,
whose shimmering chime
has filled my house—
green-shelled oysters, whose faint cry
and damp, salty breath of sea,
in every shade imaginable,
you who’ve raised an obelisk
from your own shells—my gaze,
the gaze of my taste, lies stripped:
no longer sated by you,
your pattern melted in my mouth…
I recall you with difficulty,
ready to slit my veins,
O, fragrant with moonlit vermouth,
you, frozen in ice!

Igor Severyanin, "Oysters"

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