Palus

 

Questo slideshow richiede JavaScript.

 

Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
Until we meet a snake;
‘Tis then we sigh for houses,
And our departure take

At that enthralling gallop
That only childhood knows.
A snake is summer’s treason,
And guile is where it goes.

(Emily Dickinson)

Waiting in Paris

Waiting in Paris

IDA RUBINSTEIN E MARCEL

IDA RUBINSTEIN E MARCEL

Essere Anna Freud

Essere Anna Freud

Archivi