Paul Cezanne Three Bathers painting

Paul Cezanne Three Bathers paintingPaul Cezanne The Banks of the Marne paintingPaul Cezanne Straw Vase painting
slings his beard over his shoulder, hoists up his skirts to reveal two spindly legs with an almost monstrous covering of hair, and leaps high into the night air, twirls himself about, and settles on Gibreel's shoulders, clutching on to him with fingernails that have grown into long, curved claws. Gibreel feels himself rising into the sky, bearing the old man of the sea, the Imam with hair that grows longer by the minute, streaming in every direction, his eyebrows like pennants in the wind.
Jerusalem, he wonders, which way is that? -- And then, it's a slippery word, Jerusalem, it can be an idea as well as a , an exaltation. Where is the Imam's Jerusalem? "The fall of the harlot," the disembodied voice resounds in his ears. "Her crash, the Babylonian whore."
They zoom through the night. The moon is heating up, beginning to bubble like cheese under a grill; he, Gibreel, sees pieces of it falling off from time to time, moon-drips that hiss and bubble on the sizzling griddle of the sky