“Time drops in decay,
Like a candle burnt out,
And the mountains and the woods
Have their day, have their day;
What one in the rout
Of the fire-born moods
Has fallen away?”
(“The Moods” from The Wind Among the Reeds (1899)” by W. B. Yeats, 1865-1939)
This is one more portrait of that man who I often meet between Scindia ghat and Manikarnika ghat when I walk along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
That evening I stopped him and we took several pictures just before sunset.
He knew how to catch the light in an amazing way, it was instinctive like those moods he gave to my lense.
With the kind of turban he is wearing he is reminding several paintings by Delacroix about Orientalism.
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