Painting by Andrew Atroshenko
Les Errants passent
Dans les villages où l’espoir
Peu à peu s’éteint.
Ils rallument l’éternelle flamme,
Puis s’en vont silencieusement.
Marchande de rêve
01 Thursday Aug 2013
Posted in Poésie
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Hortus Closus
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where are the Errants today…maybe you are an Errant…heart Esther…
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Deep inside of you, is a precious tiny stone: friendship, brotherhood that cannot die. All the people who passed away are there forever alive in your heart, in your soul. Remembering them is giving them a new life.
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Vagabonds qui chantent
Des chansons improvisées
Pour nourrir nos rêves.
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Magnifique. La peinture comme le texte…Moi aussi j’aimerais être un de ces “errants”…
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Love the painting
xoxo
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