.jpg)
It's time for breakfast, the table is set
A knock on the door, who can it be?
Not a word is spoken, the message is clear
He, my love, will not come home anymore.
A cold hand grabs around my heart
Mother... Why is he dead?
I can't breathe, survive in this world without him
There is no comforting word
No money only the urgency to hang in
I have to swallow and move on.
Come on, children we are late.
Quickly, take a piece of bread
The samovar is ready
Mother... I can't, I can't
A lonely sob escapes there's no way out.
Wearing the mourning dress, too early
The current lifestyle is over.
All that is left are sleepless nights
Worries at daytime, how to deal with sadness
Who can still afford a portrait by my hand?
War is on its way, Mother states,
My dear daughter, you have to go there's no other way
Paris, I think, Paris, maybe I can make it.
The thorn in my heart is hard to ignore.
At breakfast, we all are dressed up
The last time, we even cooked soup
A clean tablecloth and napkins, the Sunday bowls look nice
Everyone at the table! Such a surprise.
Even father's plate is in its usual place.
The children are amazed when I sketch them.
It will be the last memory before my departure.
See you soon, I shout cheerfully and all I do is wave one more time
I close the door behind me
Goodbye my love
Mother, children, my beloved country
My heart stays with you, I'll do my best to keep you alive. It's all that a mother can do.
Don't forget me please, I cry inside, I'll paint myself as frequently as I can.
No matter where you are or go you will always see my face in every sketch or painting I make.
The cold hand around my heart, its grip is harder but I embrace the pain. I will use it in each of my paintings to prove that those who lost can still see beauty.
_At_Breakfast.jpg)
Zinaida Serebriakova - At Breakfast (1914)
Es hora de desayunar, la mesa está puesta.
Un golpe en la puerta, ¿quién será?
No se dice una palabra, el mensaje es claro.
Él, mi amor, ya no volverá a casa.
Una mano fría agarra mi corazón
Madre... ¿Por qué está muerto?
No puedo respirar, sobrevivir en este mundo sin él.
No hay una palabra de consuelo
No hay dinero, sólo la urgencia de aguantar.
Tengo que tragar y seguir adelante.
Vamos, niños, llegamos tarde.
Rápido, toma un trozo de pan.
El samovar esta listo
Madre... no puedo, no puedo
Se escapa un sollozo solitario, no hay salida.
Vistiendo el vestido de luto, demasiado pronto
El estilo de vida actual se acabó.
Todo lo que queda son noches de insomnio.
Preocupaciones durante el día, cómo afrontar la tristeza
¿Quién puede todavía permitirse un retrato de mi mano?
La guerra está en camino, afirma Madre,
Mi querida hija tienes que irte no hay otro camino
París, creo, París, tal vez pueda lograrlo.
La espina en mi corazón es difícil de ignorar.
En el desayuno estamos todos disfrazados.
La última vez incluso cocinamos sopa.
Un mantel y servilletas limpias, los cuencos del domingo quedan bonitos.
¡Todos a la mesa! Qué sorpresa.
Incluso el plato de papá está en su lugar habitual.
Los niños se sorprenden cuando los dibujo.
Será el último recuerdo antes de mi partida.
Hasta pronto, grito alegremente y lo único que hago es saludar una vez más.
cierro la puerta detrás de mí
Adiós mi amor
Madre, hijos, mi amado país.
Mi corazón permanece contigo, haré todo lo posible para mantenerte con vida. Es todo lo que una madre puede hacer.
No me olvides por favor, lloro por dentro, me pintaré tan seguido como pueda.
No importa dónde estés o vayas, siempre verás mi cara en cada boceto o pintura que haga.
La mano fría alrededor de mi corazón, su agarre es más fuerte pero acepto el dolor. Lo usaré en cada una de mis pinturas para demostrar que aquellos que perdieron aún pueden ver la belleza.
Header: Canva
Picture painting: public domain
Style: Art Nouveau (Modern)
19-4-2024
Contest
Which painting's story you like to tell?
@eveetim @elian23khan @abdullahw2 @bedarg @cathywrites @yaladeeds @sbamsoneu @fadthalib @aminasafdar @acostacazorla see @solperez for the new contest
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#story #art-review #kittywu #poem #creativewriting #freewrite
What a wonderful and heartfelt poem.. Recently I had to write a World History study on WW1 and WW2, and your work reminds me of countless families torn apart and children left without their dads, brothers and sometimes moms... It's clear that starting a war has no sense and it never has a happy ending.
Thank you so much!
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Wars are only good for the bankaccounts of a few and to hide an economical crisis and start new: new rules, restrictions, less freedom,fewer people.
It's result is generations suffering :(
You are welcome. And feel free to join @ solperez her weekly art & writing contest.
❤️🍀
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"Those who lost can still see beauty"
That is one powerful quote.
It is sad and painful to loose a loved one, despite how sinful this world might be, there is still solace in seeing tomorrow. The worst part about loosing a loved one, is you must find a way to move on.
I have one painting or 2 at home, maybe I should learn to draw inspiration from them through your writing of cos and write on them. Thanks for the inspirations, always
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Once I asked: can I take a picture of you. It was refused. The answer was: the picture of me lives in your heart. More likely it is not the heart but the memory where a loved one lives on. And we remember what we remembered the last time better than the real event/moment. So pictures just like paintings are needed to keep the first memory or a certain moment alive.
The painter left her children behind to make a living abroad. She managed to take the youngest two out of Russia but never her eldest and mother. How should a child remember its mother. Perhaps she will always be the young lady, the kind mother (was she with 4 children???) although she grew older and it seems she didn't been recognized till she was 70 years old.
Perhaps you should study your paintings and ask for their story. Can be that story even changes every few months. For sure the knowledge we have about the one who made it influences the story, better not and study the painting (if you watch 'At Breakfast' you see at the right you a black dress, you see the empty plate, I wonder about the way the table is set, the soup... it doesn't look like breakfast to me... This was what our Saturday dinner looked like: soup and bread).
I would love to read the stories of your paintings.
If use the tags art-review hopefully we can find the art reviews back.
Inspiration is around us. Pictures we take (what would a stranger see?), you can join pic1000 see @freewritehouse, read and write a #comment post or write about a better life (dreams wishes or a peaceful mind and soul) or write about what someone said, keeps your mind busy or a memory you want to keep alive.
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Thank so much, will use the tag when I write on it
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Super! Do not forget to tag me.
Know you are in my mind and please, let me know if I can help you. ❤️🍀
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Thank you so much
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Amiga mía, en este poema se refleja la vida de Zinaida Serebriakova: sus pérdidas, sus temores, sus dolores. Pero también su fuerza de voluntad. ¿Sabes? Después de leer la biografía de esta artista, sentí que todos deberíamos tener un poco de su espíritu batallador, para afrontar las penas, y jamás rendirnos ante nada. Siempre debemos perseverar por nosotros mismos, por nuestra familia, por nuestro arte y por nuestro país.
Gracias por estar. Siempre es grato leerte.
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No estaba seguro de si esto es un poema pero añadiré esa etiqueta ya que he quitado la de burnsteem25.
No estoy seguro si esta es su biografia, solo sabemos lo que la gente quiere que sepamos. No era famosa antes de los 70 años y encontró su hogar (sus cuadros) a los 80 años. Me pregunto por qué se pintaba a sí misma aunque pintara a otros. Me gusta creer que no era porque fuera narcisista. No sabemos cómo era como madre o esposa, pero sí sabemos que plasmaba sus sentimientos en cuadros con un tema específico y que hay una suavidad, una luz en cada uno de ellos.
Esperemos que todos podamos crear algo bueno de nuestras pérdidas y de todos esos matices de sentimientos que nos provoca. Es difícil pero posible si dedicamos tiempo a crear.
Gracias por leer y comentar. Os deseo un fin de semana relajado.
❤️🍀
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Hello my dear friend 🌹
Your article beautifully captures the poignant story behind Zinaida Serebriakova's painting "At Breakfast." The narrative of loss, resilience, and the enduring power of art to convey emotion is deeply moving. It reminds us that even in the face of tragedy, beauty can still be found and expressed. Thank you so much for sharing with us and I really enjoyed reading it. Have a great day 😊
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Thank you so much for reading and your kimd respond. Perhaps there is a painting you like to share?
A great Sunday and start of the week to you.
❤️🍀
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You are welcome dear friend 😌 but still I don't have any paintings to share with you.
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You can also find one on the internet 'public domain' or join @solperez her contest.
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Yes surely I will try. And thanks a lot for your recommendation 😊
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Thank you, friend!
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please click it!
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https://x.com/wakeup_kitty/status/1781357623679328770
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https://x.com/wakeup_kitty/status/1781357623679328770
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Only use the hashtag #burnsteem25 when you set 25% of Beneficiaries to @null
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Thank you. I removed burnsteem25
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