Dark everywhere, deaf everywhere...
when will the day yet arrive?!
In January, the cold Mrs. Winter...
How am I expected to last?!
I think it's time for the gallery,
I'll dig into the large art.
Culturally, I'll spend time there,
to wait for spring sooner.
So – painting. There my steps
It should be directed. Cold
in painting walls.
Abstract? Useful?
It's little important. The Master’s Work
He's like a diamond. Pure crystal.
Maybe he'll surprise you with something else.
I would say, “The view is lovely”?
I barely looked into the master's work...
The blood heats up the others
Me right now. “Beautiful scratches!
Even a blind man would get close,
To feel them. Tough choice.
Live choice? Wonderful Profile
and this softness, perfect...’.
She played on my emotions.
The master's work... burned?
Neither was it.
Though dead – whispers secretly:
"Don't look at me. Look at life!’
(image: Edvard Munch 'Scream')
