Earlier today I wrote about enjoying the little things in life. A sort of take time out and smell the roses or just enjoy them on your walk or in my case the sunshine. If you didn't read that post, you can go HERE and do that. I'll wait.
So, I told you that my art work for today would be in this post and it will be. However, I want to talk to you about what inspired me.
A man by the name of Pavel Friedmann wrote a poem about a butterfly. It was not just any old butterfly. The sadness of the poem is explained through this butterfly. I will post the poem at the end of my art work so you can read it. Think about it and tell me your thoughts. Be inspired and be happy with, the little things.
|Painting inspired by the poem, "The Butterfly"|
The Butterfly - Pavel Friedmann
He was the last. Truly the last.
Such yellowness was bitter and blinding
Like the sun’s tear shattered on stone.
That was his true colour.
And how easily he climbed, and how high,
Certainly, climbing, he wanted
To kiss the last of my world.
I have been here seven weeks,
Who loved me have found me,
Daisies call to me,
And the branches also of the white chestnut in the yard.
But I haven’t seen a butterfly here.
That last one was the last one.
There are no butterflies, here, in the ghetto.
Pavel Friedmann, a young Jewish man from the Theresienstadt Ghetto wrote this poem during his time there. He was later deported to Auschwitz and died on 29 September 1944.