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■ sunt cobaiul propriei vieÈ›i
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2021-09-30 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Cypress stalks ascending to the sky;
lights and shadows. You sought the light to the depths of your soul thirsty of beauty, you gave life even to the insignificant and the humble; not colors you painted on canvas but your heart in feverish nuances. Wonderful landscapes poppy and wheat fields with the sunflowers swaying in the wind and simple people toiling in the fields with doubt and hope in their soul... Hopes, what for? A calm light, sometimes troubled, telling the story of life, without words, comes from your paintings that have delighted so many eyes, without bringing you anything in return – and passes over people and things, spreading in the universe... You didn’t want happiness, just a place on earth to rest your head tired of thoughts when you went to sleep, thirsty for comfort and life. You loved so much, but you were forbidden warmth and love. You looked for the light and how much shadow you met how much shadow… Red poppy fields… cypress tops rising to the sky.
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