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Piotr Piecko, Sylvana and the Song of Farewell

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Beskrivelse av objektet

Estimeringer: 938 - 1 407 EUR

Oil, canvas, 40 x 30 cm, plus binding

Signed PIECKO
It is said that the most beautiful songs are born of longing. It was a night in which the
the full moon illuminated an ivy-covered clearing, and the forest whispered to the
rhythm of the world's breathing. The bard, tired of wandering and the impotence to create,
squatted under an ancient oak tree. His lute, a faithful companion, seemed to be
quieter than usual, as if it too had succumbed to the weight of his thoughts. The silence
was broken by a sudden murmur - soft, almost elusive, like raindrops
falling on the leaves.
Sylvana appeared without warning, rising from the shadows of the trees, as if the very
night had formed her from the moonlight and forest darkness. Her presence was
fleeting but poignant, like the scent of flowers that bloom only once in a lifetime. - Why is your song silent, wanderer? - she asked, and her voice had
a note of tenderness in it that the bard could not ignore. - My heart is empty," he replied, without raising his eyes. - There are no more words that want to be born.
Sylvana moved closer and knelt beside him. Her touch was light, almost
imperceptible as she placed her hand on the lute. From her fingers flowed a quiet
melody - unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar, as if it came from the very
depths of the earth. - Sometimes a song is born not from what is in us, but from what we have lost - Let the forest sing through you. The bard raised her head and gazed
into her eyes full of mystery, like tree leaves reflecting starlight.
He didn't know who she was - a forest spirit, a goddess, or simply a dream that
spawned by his tired imagination. As he began to play, the sounds filled the
the clearing, intertwining with the whispers of the wind.
Sylvana smiled slightly, but there was a note of
of sadness. When the song came to an end, she disappeared, as if she had never been there,
leaving only the subtle scent of the forest and the echo of a melody that had never
had ever been heard before.
"Memoirs of an unknown wanderer"