“Little Lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft Wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, Merrily,
We welcome in the Year.”
(W. Blake in Spring)
Liège (B)
"Picture and text are showing the transitory character of reality"
"Often in the white clouds that appear on the horizon It seems that as an angel you fly towards me, And hold out your arms never to leave me again. Ah, tell me, ah, say if there is anything that conjures up an image of me for you!" (Unidentified author in All'amante lontano, transl. by L. Claycomb) Amsterdam (NL)