We share just a little bit of
The Twentieth Century
But I have always felt Myself
As a Nineteenth-century Soul
Your Gentle Face, so strangely, strongly
Familiar to Me when I was a Child,
And your Bright and Sharp Wit
Gave me Strength and really
Helped Me to go through
The Awful Teenage Years
And my Dreadful Twenties
And They still help Me, for
An Outcast stay an Outcast
And an Albatross always knows
Who can fly far and high like Him.
Vera da Pozzo, Paris, exactly 124 years after Oscar Wilde's death.
And alien tears will fill for him / Pity's long-broken urn, / For his mourners will be outcast men, / And outcasts always mourn. (Epithaph on Oscar Wilde's grave in Pere Lachaise cemetery, from The Ballad of Reading Gaol, 1897)
Some artworks made by me in September and October.
Below, today's page on my Diary.
Picture and quote taken from the official Oscar Wilde's website.
I unfortunately do not have the time to draw, but I will sing again I'm throwing my Arms around Paris this night, at the Piano qui chante.
(C) Vera da Pozzo
(C) Italy is Mine
(C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living
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