VEF Blog

francoise4 le 27-06-2024 à 13:24:41
bon jeudi bisous prend soins de toi

BernardNowman le 26-06-2024 à 12:36:36
ouiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii mon amour (l) je t'aimeeeeee (l) moi ossi tres fort

joliii poeme

gladys-lemire le 26-06-2024 à 12:29:43
merci mon ti nhomme jtaime aussi très fort

my always to me(l) me life (l)

gladys-lemire le 26-06-2024 à 12:26:52
Adagio poeme



The street was deserted and overlooked the fields.

When I went to see the beautiful setting suns in summer

With the beloved dream that accompanies me everywhere,

I always followed her to win the campaign,

And I noticed that, in a house

Who makes the corner and who holds, like a prison,

Closed to the evening wind its narrow shutter,

Always at the same time, a musician

Mysterious, and who undoubtedly lived there,

Played the adagio from the sonata in A.

The sky was tinged with soft green and pink.

The street was deserted; and the morose stroller

And sad, as lovers often are,

Who passed by, their eyes fixed on the powdery lawns,

Always at the same time, had gotten used to it

To hear this old tune in this solitude.

The piano sang dull, sweet, touching,

Filled with the painful memory of the absent

And quietly reproaching the old ecstasies.

And I guessed flowers in large vases,

Perfumes, a deep and funereal mirror,

A portrait of a man with a proud, magnetic and black eye,

Majestic folds in the dark hangings,

A silver lamp, discreet, under the shadows,

The old keyboard offering itself in its cold paleness,

And, in this emotional atmosphere, a pain

Blossomed with ineffable and physical charm

Silence, freshness, music.

The piano sang ever lower, lower.

Then, one evening in August, I didn't hear him.

BernardNowman le 26-06-2024 à 12:12:43
magnifique article mon amour (l)

je t'aimeeee my wife always (l)