Jack Vettriano, Night in the city, 2006 Love for us is no paradise of arbors – to us love tells us, humming, that the stalled motor of the heart has started to work again. Per noi l’ amore non è paradiso terrestre a noi l’ amore annunzia ronzando che di nuovo è stato messo in …
Marc Chagall, The street performers in the night, 1957 Just now I smeared the map of the daily grind,splashing paint out of a glass;I revealed the sharp cheek-bones of the oceanon a platter of jellied meat.I read the summons of new lipson the scales of a tin fish.And youcould youplay a nocturneon a drain-pipe flute? …
Caspar David Friedrich, The Monk by the Sea, 1810 I’ll become if not Tolstoy, then a fatty, – all I do is eat and write, stupefied by the heat. Who hasn’t played the philosopher while at sea? Only water. Mi sto trasformando non in Tolstoj, ma in grassone. Mangio, scrivo, tonto dal calore. Chi non …
Vladimir Mayakovsky – from Shallow philosophy over the depths Read More »
Bartolomeo Cavarozzi, Aminta’s lament, 1615 Drop your horrible words onto my head! For your every muscle, like a megaphone, still blares forth: “I’m dead! I’m dead! I’m dead!” No, answer! (I can’t just go home in disgrace!) And spare me your lies! As two open graves, into your face have burrowed themselves your eyes. (…) …
Giovanni Boldini, La divina in blu, 1905 In my soul, let your youth once again sprout, reacquaint your heart with the body’s delights. I know that, with women, one must always pay. But you shouldn’t mind if, for now, since I’m broke, instead of chic Parisian gowns, I dress you up today in tobacco smoke. …
Jack Vettriano, Beautiful losers, 1999 He entered, Entwined in the streets’ delight. I, Split in a wail, overflowing with spite. Cried out to him: “All right, I’ll go, all right! Let her remain. Dress her up in fine rags, shy wings will swell in silk, of course. Watch out or she’ll float away. Around her …
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