As on all its sides a kitchen-match darts white <br />flickering tongues before it bursts into flame: <br />with the audience around her, quickened, hot, <br />her dance begins to flicker in the dark room. <br /> <br />And all at once it is completely fire. <br /> <br />One upward glance and she ignites her hair <br />and, whirling faster and faster, fans her dress <br />into passionate flames, till it becomes a furnace <br />from which, like startled rattlesnakes, the long <br />naked arms uncoil, aroused and clicking. <br /> <br />And then: as if the fire were too tight <br />around her body, she takes and flings it out <br />haughtily, with an imperious gesture, <br />and watches: it lies raging on the floor, <br />still blazing up, and the flames refuse to die - <br />Till, moving with total confidence and a sweet <br />exultant smile, she looks up finally <br />and stamps it out with powerful small feet.<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-spanish-dancer/
