Solitude The solitude knocked at the door to my room—number thirty-three. The boredom entered my bed like a big dull cloud—silently. The sheets were blank pieces of paper.

Vincent Van Gogh The poppies have bloomed The poppies have bloomed. They brighten the lips of spring with their mad red. They kiss the zephyr to unravel the

Unanswered Her arms spread as if she wants to embrace Heaven the Afghan mother begs food for her starving child. But her prayers touch neither human nor Heaven.

Are We Free Like Butterflies? Are we free? The butterflies are free. Free to fly over the land, And to look down upon the cattle. And they can

Painting by Nicole Senlis, France   In the end everything seemed to be superfluous, our whims, our worries, our everyday words whirling in between the four corners of

Painting by Vincent van Gogh   All the Pianos in the Wood    I like to play on the black keys because I believe that night music is

Painting by Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal   The heart regenerates more slowly than other organs and is never renewed completely, that’s what it says in the textbook.   this

Picture Albert Marquet     AFTER A LONG JOURNEY I sit down on the balcony to watch the night. My mother told me it was senseless to be

Picture by Germain Droogenbroodt Winter Evening A mild winter evening dressed in dark silk, through the mist a star glimmers, then sleeps. The heart stirs briefly, then it,

The Boundary The boundary between sky and sea disappeared, everything was the same transparent haze, white frost or gray-gleaming pearls. A boat floated in the air with a