He is the happy wanderer, who goes, Singing upon the way, with eyes awake To every scene, with ears alert to take The sweetness of all sounds; who loves and knows The secrets of the highway, and the rose Holds fairer for the wounds that briars make.

We shall lodge at the sign of the Grave, you say; Well, the road is a long one we trudge, my friend, So why should we grieve at the break of the day? Let us si…

It may be we shall know in the hereafter Why we, begetting hopes, give birth to fears, And why the world's too beautiful for laughter, Too gross for tears.

In this painting, I was in fact in quest for a certain hour, which was and which remains always the most beautiful hour of the day in Moscow. The sun is alread…

With this painting, I tried to make everything breathe faith, quiet suffering, religious and primitive style and great nature with its scream.

Karafy gaer wennglaer o du gwennylan; myn yd gar gwyldec gweled gwylan yd garwny uyned, kenym cared yn rwy. Ry eitun ouwy y ar veingann y edrtch uy chwaer chwe…