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11/08/2017

Ethan Allen. Cherchez la femme ...

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Cherchez la femme ... *,
As a rare flower ...
Or maybe a fabulous handsome man
Mirabilis? ***
You do not have time to make out,
And the colors have changed!
And now, from the white already
He is claretish.
Yes! Yes, it's whimsical ...
And unpredictable. Having changed ...
But, how fiercely captivating!
So that's the woman,
How rare
Papyrus
Or, unreadable until now, the manuscript ...
Mysterious ...
And I want to read,
To the point of trembling,
Penetrating the essence of desire ...
And bathe in the delights of consciousness,
What, all of a sudden, one moment became clear!
Or sound ...
Or a note ...
Or maybe a glance ...
A smile ... Or a gesture ...

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Do not flatter yourself!
All the mirage ...
And all the protest!
It is naive to be amused that
I learned a lot ...
Only laughter in return ...
Do not solve it!
From creation is a secret ritual.
And there is no number of those wise men,
Who tried to explain ...
But, every time,
All new
Hidden ... there ... inside ...
And the essence is not to know,
Mon cher ami ... **

Tamara Stepanova

* Cherchez la femme - look for a woman (French)
** Mon cher ami - my dear friend (French)
*** Mirabilis - this flower is better known as Night Beauty. It has unique properties. Firstly, flowers of completely different colors can be blossomed on one bush, and even one bud can have different petals. Secondly, as this plant ripens, the shades of colors can drastically change - the yellow becomes saturated with pink, white can become lilac ... or burgundy ...


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Vladimir Kush Horn Of Babel

 

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Paul Cezanne Jacket on a Chair

08/08/2017

Tristan Dumlao. And the violin sobbed ...

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A violin sobbed. Piercing and pitiful.
She caused tears in romantics and irritation in prose writers.
The girl did not know how to cry. Thin long fingers caught a melody.
Sounds formed into a beautiful song of cruel wind, which was born free. In a moment everything changed.
The instrument screamed for the pain of separation. It seemed that the gods were talking with its hard sounds. Another swing of the bow is another fate.


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Her name was Maria. This name was not at all suited to this closed, strict girl, wearing a dark skirt and a black turtleneck.
Black violin ... White fingers. Black soul.
The violinist brought out unthinkable melodies that made people suffer, dream and believe.
She wanted to believe. Did not know how. Did not learn. She did not want to learn.
- Marie! - a bright French accent in the voice of this woman with an old-fashioned hairdo and thin glasses in horn frame, exploded the silence of the music.
It does not matter. Maria did not pay attention.
The violin laughed hysterically. I did not want anything - just listen to music, be music. Slick fingers ran around the neck. All is not important.
The girl was smiling. From this smile people creeped over the back. Her eyes were of an uncertain color, and the cold of the starless winter night was looking at them. A violin sobbed.
In the heart of Marie, she always sang, her strange otherworldly melody, like the howling of a solitary she-wolf, the cry of an eagle locked in a cage, the noise of a still free waterfall.

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The girl walked leisurely along the metropolis street.
Black hair, like wings flew behind her back.
A stubborn gaze forced people to stop and part ways, giving her the way. She was carrying music.
That natural living melody, which many of us hear only in childhood. Maria heard her always.
I have long ceased to be afraid of making mistakes.
Fear of error drowned the music in her head and heart.
She destroyed fear. Just like love.
by Pino paintings for sale
Anastasia Manuylova

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06/08/2017

Petrov Mikhail Olegovich Water, water, around the water!

And the second part of the paintings by Petrov Mikhail Olegovich. Here, without the philosophy of the universe, but simply positive for the sake of.
I wanted only to take away the winter, but, comrades, summer is coming soon!
And therefore let our life be in all its water diversity - both the snow and the sea.
And I put the pictures together. And do not get bored to. ))
Long live the cycle of water in nature!

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January

Since morning frost ... The picture is good:
Puffed, sitting on the branches of birds,
A cloud - funny turtles -
Crawl on the edge of the sky slowly.

Not a breeze. As if the fireflies,
The rays sparkle on a diamond crumb ...
I'm in the mood, sunny cat,
I feed the bliss of January from my hand,

And he is about to end,
And he will sing his romances of a blizzard,
Begin February-shabby chasing in a circle
Snowflake naughty dance,

And there the spring heat will charm,
There will come a long-awaited happiness summer ...
So day after day the planet rotates
And gives a fairy tale under the name "life".

Lana Mayskaya

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by Cao Yong Paintings for sale